


Expectancy

by aroseandapen



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: I throw in my own headcanons on how monster pregnancy works, M/M, Mentioned drunken sex, One Night Stand, Sans supports his bro's decisions, Unplanned Pregnancy, sex mentioned but not explicit, skelepreg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2018-11-02 15:34:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 38,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10947465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aroseandapen/pseuds/aroseandapen
Summary: After some drunken night shenanigans at a party, Papyrus ends up pregnant… by Mettaton. Unfortunately the latter can barely even remember who the skeleton even is. Maybe by spending time with Papyrus, Mettaton can rediscover the charm that his drunk self had been so taken with to begin with.





	1. Discovery

**Author's Note:**

> I'll be posting fic updates a few days early on my Tumblr: https://aroseandapen.tumblr.com/
> 
> Based on this post by unflavoredskelly: http://unflavoredskelly.tumblr.com/post/158718773717/ive-been-trying-so-dang-hard-to-finish-this

Papyrus rolled over in bed, screwing his eye sockets shut against the headache and nausea that surged through him. Was he getting sick? It didn’t happen so often, but on the occasions that it did, it was unbearable.

He took in a shaky breath, releasing it in a long, slow exhale. Papyrus wasn’t a fan of being lazy, or spending all day in bed, but the thought of trying to sit up now just to watch the room spin and jerk around him had him biting back another wave of nausea. Perhaps just this once, he would allow himself a lazy day.

_Ugh_. He didn’t want to. When Sans finally woke up on his own and came in, he was going to have a field day about it. So he had probably… three hours of peace until that happened.

His face relaxed as he rolled over onto his back. Outside, the birds were chattering, high-pitched noises grating, and the sunlight had begun creeping in through his blinds to fall over his closed sockets. Daytime had arrived, and the last thing that Papyrus wanted to do was remain in bed as he waited out the illness. Already his limbs itched to leap out of bed, to throw himself into his work with the enthusiasm to put into everything he did, to rouse his brother and to nudge him out to begin his own day as well. He couldn’t do any of those things while he was bedridden with—.

_OH!_

His eyes snapped open in the same instant that he jolted out of the bed. The door bounced against the wall with the force that he threw it open with in his race to the bathroom. He just barely made it inside before he was sick.

Thank all the gods above for human house designs, with their bathrooms and their toilets.

Shakily, he pulled his head up from said porcelain seat, excess magic leaking from the corners of his mouth. Papyrus felt horrible, but at least he was marginally better after expelling some of that roiling magic from his body. He swiped his hand across his mouth. It came away with the orange glow of his magic, faint and discolored with the corruption of whatever illness had overtaken him. Ew.

A knock at the door made him jump.

“hey bro?” It was Sans. Papyrus must have waken him up in his rush for the bathroom. He felt a little spike of guilt at that. “you ok in there?”

“I-I—”

For a moment, Papyrus was caught between telling his brother what was going on and keeping it to himself. His limbs trembled as he braced himself against the toilet seat, and he worried about collapsing onto it in his weakness. He drew in a shaky breath. Sans… would really want to know. And he bet that he didn’t look alright at the moment, gross as he felt.

“I THINK I’M SICK.”

There was a noise from the other side of the door; a muffled swear. Papyrus frowned, debating whether he should reprimand his brother for the vulgarity or not when Sans spoke again. “…need any help? can i come in?”

“IF YOU WANT.”

A beat passed. Then there was the turn of the knob and the door pushed open. Sans poked his head inside the room.

“shit, you look terrible bro. no offense.”

Papyrus’ eye socket twitched, a frown snapping to his face. “YES, WELL I WOKE UP THIS MORNING WITH MY SOUL TRYING TO EMPTY ITSELF OF ALL IT’S CONTENTS, SO I _BET_ I DON’T LOOK AS HANDSOME AS I NORMALLY DO, _THANK YOU VERY MUCH_!”

“right. yeah, sorry.” Sans shifted his weight from one foot to the other, stuffing his hands in his pocket. Papyrus’ tone was more irritated than he’d meant it to be, and it was obvious that his brother noticed.

Papyrus sighed, rocking back to sit on the ground instead of kneeling in front of the toilet. His legs felt achy and cramped, and he reached down to massage at them. “I’M SORRY SANS, I’M JUST… I JUST REALLY DON’T FEEL WELL RIGHT NOW, SO PLEASE TRY TO LESSEN THE TEASING A BIT. JUST FOR TODAY.”

“sure. i’ll tone it down.” Although Papyrus cast him a suspicious look, searching for a joke or some ridicule about how he needed to loosen up and have a sense of humor, Sans seemed completely genuine. Papyrus felt a rush of relief, near overwhelming in its intensity. “do you need some water or crackers or—shit! bro, are you ok? why are you crying?”

“I’M—.” Was he crying? He hadn’t realized it.

He reached up to brush his hand over his eye sockets, and sure enough it came away wet. _Why_ was he crying? Sure, he was happy that his brother was supportive enough not to tease him while he was vulnerable as he was now, but it was nothing to _cry_ over.

The realization had even more tears gathering, and he sniffed. The action shook the tears loose, and they started rolling down his cheekbones. Oh no. Oh no no. He looked away, a belated attempt to hide his crying from Sans.

“I DON’T KNOW. I DON’T KNOW, I’M—”

Papyrus was at a loss, wiping away the tears even as more came to take their place. He was sick, he was achy, and now he was being ridiculously emotional for absolutely no reason. He hated this.

“hey, hey, it’s ok!” Sans said hastily, reaching out as if to lay a hand on Papyrus’ shoulder. He didn’t quite touch him, hand awkwardly hovering just over him, unsure. “just… how about you just relax today? take the day off? you’re obviously sick, you need a break, bro.”

Taking a day off. Although he’d entertained the idea while he’d been lying in bed, Papyrus still bristled at the thought. Never once had he taken any sort of break other than the time between one thing he finished doing and the next he had to begin. He didn’t need it. There were so many things to be done and so little time to do it, he didn’t have the time to take a break.

He shook his head. “I HAVE THINGS TO DO! I WAS GOING TO GO HANG OUT WITH UNDYNE AND WE WERE GOING TO WORK OUT, AND THEN I NEED TO GO TO THE STORE BECAUSE WE’RE RUNNING LOW ON A FEW THINGS, AND THEN AFTER THAT I NEED TO MAKE LUNCH AND THEN… AND THEN…”

Papyrus didn’t manage to finish his list of things to do. Just thinking about preparing lunch and all of those ingredients made him heave. His hand clapped over his mouth as he gagged, desperately trying to keep his magic within himself. Gross, gross, he felt so gross and messy.

Sans finally got over whatever silly awkwardness about touching him he had, hand thumbing against his Papyrus’ back to rub soothing circles into it. “bro, i get that you don’t want to have a lazy day, but you obviously aren’t in the best shape right now. if you call undyne and tell her that you’re feeling like shit, she’ll totally understand that you can’t come hang out.”

“LANGUAGE.”

Sans grinned, but otherwise didn’t respond to his half-hearted reprimand. He continued as if Papyrus hadn’t spoken. “and i can’t believe i’m saying this, but i will take the time out of my entire schedule of doing absolutely nothing to go to the store. if you want i can even bring home lunch. sound good?”

It didn’t. Papyrus would much rather go about his day as normal. Yet as he shakily wiped away the remaining tears and scrubbed at his mouth, he had to admit that he wasn’t feeling great. Working out would probably make him feel even more sick, and just thinking about hanging out with Undyne and her aggressive enthusiasm made his bones ache. As much as he didn’t want to say that Sans was right… well, for once he _was_.

“I CAN MAKE LUNCH MYSELF,” he said at last, after a quiet moment of thought. “BUT I WILL TAKE YOUR ADVICE. JUST FOR TODAY, THOUGH.”

Relief bloomed in his brother’s face, and the hand at his back gave him a few good pats.

“that’s my bro. just write me a list of what we need and i’ll go get it while you call undyne and relax. and maybe get yourself cleaned up,” he added as he pulled his hand away to return it to its usual place in his pocket. “it’ll make you feel better.”

Papyrus did feel gritty and gross. A shower sounded wonderful. He nodded. “WILL DO. COULD YOU GET ME SOME PAPER? AND A PEN!”

“sure. be right back.”

In a moment he was armed with paper and pen, and Papyrus jotted down a list of everything that he could think of, adding stars next to things that Sans _must not forget under **any circumstance**_. Which just so happened to be a good majority of the list. If his brother was going to be running errands for him, Papyrus didn’t want to have to go again anyway just for whatever Sans forgot. Sans took it from him, giving it a cursory glance before he bid Papyrus farewell with a grin and a lazy wink of his.

And so Papyrus was left alone.

He sighed, resolving himself to stray from the bathroom now that he couldn’t feel that nauseating turmoil inside of him. The first thing he should do was to call Undyne. But when he had his phone in hand, with Undyne’s contact pulled up on the screen and his thumb hovering over the ‘call’ button, he hesitated. It shouldn’t be as hard as it was. She was his friend. He needed to call her and let her know that he wouldn’t be able to come over.

That didn’t stop the little flutter of fear in his soul that she might be angry at him for canceling on her.

Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to hit call. A slight tremor ran through him as he raised the phone so that he could listen to it ring.

Yet as the phone continued to ring without a response, it seemed as if Undyne wasn’t going to answer the phone. He frowned, a hand on his hip while the other held the phone to the side of his skull. Of course it would be the one time he _needed_ to get ahold of her that she wouldn’t pick up. Papyrus sighed. He’d have to try again later, before the time of their meetup that he wouldn’t show up to, and Undyne being left there alone and wondering if her best friend had stood her up.

He shuddered at the thought. Calling to cancel was scary enough, but never would he want her to think that he ditched her.

Just when he was about to hang up, resolving to try again later, there was a click and suddenly Undyne’s voice was blasting through the speaker. “Hey nerd! What’s up? You ready for our intense hangout-workout session today?”

Papyrus pulled the phone away from his head. Her voice was still clear from a distance, static crackling in the speakers at her volume. Yet it made him smile. That was his friend, true and earnest as always. He gingerly returned the phone to his skull, cautious of her noise as he answered.

“HELLO UNDYNE! I MEAN, I’M CALLING BECAUSE OF THE HANGOUT-WORKOUT…” Papyrus fidgeted, glad that his friend couldn’t see it through the telephone.

She picked up on his nervousness anyway. “Yeah? What’s up? You ok?”

“YES! YES I AM FINE!” he was quick to assure her, waving his hands to brush off her comment. Not that she could see what he was doing regardless. “THAT IS, I’M _MOSTLY_ FINE. I’M JUST… I FELT REALLY SICK THIS MORNING, AND WHILE I FEEL BETTER NOW, _SANS_ THINKS THAT I SHOULD TAKE THE DAY OFF, JUST IN CASE. OBVIOUSLY I DO NOT NEED IT, BUT I WOULD LIKE TO ASSUAGE MY BROTHER’S WORRIES!”

“Sick this morning? Like _morning sickness_?”

There was a snicker on the other side of the phone. She was joking about something, although he couldn’t tell what it was. Papyrus frowned at his phone.

“WELL, CONSIDERING THAT IT WAS MORNING WHILE I WAS SICK, THEN YES. I THINK THAT IT WOULD BE CALLED MORNING SICKNESS.”

Undyne’s quiet tittering turned into a full-out guffaw.

“What?!! Really? Are you pregnant, nerd?”

Papyrus flushed. “NO!!! NO OF COURSE I’M NOT, OH MY GOD? I—! IS THAT WHAT MORNING SICKNESS IS? I WAS JUST SICK!”

“I know, I know,” Undyne told him, voice shaking in her attempt to suppress her laughter. “I was just teasin’ ya! But anyway, sure! We can reschedule our hangout for some other day. Ya better get yourself better quickly, dude, or I’ll personally come over there and noogie the illness right out of ya!”

“NOO, DON’T NOOGIE ME!” Despite himself, he was grinning. Leave it to Undyne to take it so well. “THANK YOU, UNDYNE. I WILL BE SURE TO CALL YOU THE MOMENT I AM FEELING BETTER!”

“You better! Later, nerd!”

“GOODBYE!”

There was a click as Undyne hung up. Papyrus was still smiling, a lightness in his soul after talking with his best friend. He really needn’t have been anxious about the phone call. Of course she would understand. She was of course very passionate about working, but she obviously wouldn’t want him to push himself if he was ill.

“WELL THEN!” he announced to the empty house, filling he quiet with the sound of his own voice. “TIME FOR A SHOWER.”

Papyrus made his way into the bathroom, flipping the shower on. As he waited for the water to heat up and for steam to begin to fill the small room, he found his thoughts stuck on Undyne’s teasing words. Pregnant. God, what a joke. She knew just as well as he did that it required mutual desire between all parties to develop a new soul, and an intimate moment.

Not that he’d never had an intimate moment before. He had. Once.

He felt his bones heat up as he remembered back a couple of weeks. There’d been a monster acceptance event, an annual thing to promote friendly relations between monsters and humans. Papyrus had of course been involved, and he remembered there being a performance by the hot celebrity Mettaton himself.

Mettaton had hosted the after-party, at a comfortable place that Papyrus could barely remember now. There had been drinking, enough to leave him loose with his inhibitions. Mettaton had come over and talked to him, obviously at least as drunk as Papyrus had been. He remembered gushing to the robot, leaning close, receiving a lovely MTT shirt as a gift, moving into a private room to try it on…

Nuzzling at his vertebrae, breathy moans, the rustling of clothes being shed…

He shook his head hard, forcing the memory from his mind. Getting pregnant from that was impossible! The both of them were barely conscious of their actions at the time. He doubted that Mettaton even remembered him.

While he’d been stuck in his thoughts, the room had gotten so steamy that Papyrus could barely see. The mirror had fogged up, his face obscured but orange glow still obvious in his reflection, the flush scattered over his bones. He felt hot, and not just because of the shower. Resolving to no longer think of it, he stepped into the shower, savoring the heated sting of water against his aching body.

Ah, that was really nice.

The hot water soothed away the aches in his bones and washed away the gross mess he’d made of himself. He allowed the cascade to wash away unnecessary thoughts and imagined his high-strung emotions of the day simply draining away with the water at his feet. And without any commitments to look forward to later in the day, he allowed himself to enjoy an extra long shower. By the time he shut the water off and toweled himself off, he felt much of his stress had evaporated in a cloud of steam.

Perhaps a break every now and then wasn’t too bad after all.

Ugh. He hoped that he wasn’t turning into Sans.

On the bright side, he didn’t feel as awful as he had when he started the shower. He was clean and rejuvenated and prepared to tackle the rest of the day. A part of him regretted canceling on Undyne, if all he needed to feel great again was to take a shower. But what was done was done, and there was always the possibility that his illness had only temporarily abated. At the very least he could make lunch. And Sans would probably be hungry after he finished with his own errand, assuming that he didn’t go to some awful fast food place on his way back.

To be sure that didn’t happen, he sent out a quick text to his brother.

> _**[Sent to: Lazybones]** \- I AM COOKING LUNCH, SO DON’T SPOIL YOUR APPETITE BEFORE YOU GET HOME!!!_
> 
> _**[Received from: Lazybones]** \- sounds gud bro. almos done b bck soon_

Right then. His brother’s unfortunate love of poor spelling in text form aside, that was one potential problem solved. He was quick to dress, pajamas comfy and perfect for a day off, and made his way into the kitchen. He pulled out everything he needed. Noodles, tomatoes, onions—oh, the smell of those made his nonexistent stomach churn uneasily—and so on and so forth. He set a pot of water on the stove to boil and got to work preparing his ingredients.

The front door opened just as he was punching his tomatoes into submission.

“SANS?”

“here, bro. how’re you feeling? making food?”

Papyrus scooped up the tomatoes and dumped them into the bowl. He considered the banana, decided against it, and grabbed the onion instead. “MUCH BETTER, AND OF COURSE! I TOLD YOU THAT I WAS COOKING LUNCH! WHAT ELSE WOULD IT BE?”

“i dunno. fried boot, maybe?” He could hear the rustling of plastic from the living room as Sans presumably set down shopping bags.

“AS IF I WOULD BE SO CLASSLESS AS TO FRY ANYTHING!” He sniffed at the idea. “IF ANYTHING, I WOULD BOIL THE BOOT AND SEASON IT TO MY TASTES!”

“heh. you’re right, sorry bro. hey, where do you want this stuff?”

“BRING IT IN HERE! I’M BUSY MAKING THE SAUCE FOR MY SPAGHETTI RIGHT NOW, SO YOU CAN JUST PUT IT ON THE TABLE!” he called as he set the onion on the cutting board.

“gotcha, bro.” More rustling in the bags, and the shuffling of his brother dragging his feet against the ground. Meanwhile, Papyrus continued his own work.

As he chopped the onion, he began to feel queasy again. Papyrus shook his head. Just the return of his illness, nothing to worry about, it was fine. He just had to get through making lunch and then he could rest. And yet as he threw the ingredients into a pan and set the heat on, the combined smells began to get to him. He let out a long breath, bracing his forearms against the cool countertop as he took a few moments to himself. What was _wrong_ with him today? He was just feeling fine! Papyrus took a deep breath.

And got a big whiff of the cooking onions.

Papyrus lurched, rushing from the kitchen and nearly bowling over his brother in his hurry to get to the bathroom. Again. _Ugh_.

_‘What, are you pregnant or something?’_

His friend’s words came to mind unbidden, and thoroughly unwelcome. Undyne had snickered at them—an obvious joke to a buddy who she surely thought was the least likely to get pregnant—but he wondered at them. Perhaps there was something to what she said.

It wouldn’t hurt to check in any case.

Papyrus took a shaky breath. Alone, closed off in the tiny bathroom, his eyes fell closed and focused on breathing. He withdrew into himself, and with each deep inhale and slow exhale he delved deeper into his person. In his mind’s eye he saw his soul, the white glow of the organ pulsing softly in the darkness of his closed eye sockets. It was comforting. The sight soothed him to the core. Little by little, he drew it out, summoning it from the safety of his physical form, and when he opened his eyes, it hovered in front of him in the open air.

“HEY THERE…” He wasn’t sure why he was speaking to his soul, since it was a non-sentient part of himself anyway, but the sound of his own voice steadied him. With trembling fingers, he reached out, stroking over the lower curves. It sent a pleasant shiver through him, dispelling his nerves. “…WHAT’S GOING ON WITH YOU?”

As he examined his soul, he began to notice that there was something off with it. There was an energy, something that wasn’t wholly apart of himself, mixed in with magic that wasn’t entirely _his_.

“ _OH MY GOD._ ” His voice had fallen to a harsh whisper, realization sinking in at last. The irritability, the tears, the nausea, the aches… they all made sense.

There was a knock on the bathroom door again, and once more he jumped at the sound. His cheekbones colored. He’d forgotten that he’d nearly knocked over his brother on his way to the bathroom. More than that, he realized that he had to tell his brother what was going on. Papyrus didn’t even have time to prepare the right words, it was happening _right now_.

“YES, SANS?”

“you ok in there? you sick again? you left the stove on in the kitchen.”

For a moment, Papyrus didn’t answer. The fact that he’d left the stove on didn’t affect him much in that moment. He didn’t know what to say, and the silence stretched on as he stood there, still staring at the door as his soul sunk back into his chest to disappear within him once more. What would Sans think of him? Papyrus didn’t even have a partner. Would Sans be disgusted with him?

“papyrus?”

At the sound of his full name and the concern that crept into his brother’s voice, his anxiety spiked. Now or never. He had to do it now or never.

In lieu of an answer, Papyrus crossed over to the door. With the same sort of yank that he’d rip off a bandage with, he pulled open the door to meet the worried face of his brother. Before Sans could even question him, or ask what was wrong, Papyrus spoke up.

“SANS, I’M PREGNANT.”

The silence that followed was palpable. Sans’ mouth was open, but whatever words he might have had never came. As his brother said nothing, staring up at him with his eye sockets devoid of the usual eyelights, Papyrus found himself squirming under the weight of it. He began to fidget, folding his hands over each other and clicking the bones of his phalanges together. A part of him wanted to snap at Sans to just _say_ something; to stop looking at him like that, but he bit down on the urge in favor of allowing his brother to process it in his own time.

But the waiting was agony.

“what? you’re… what? how— _who_?” Sans said at last, tiny pinpricks of light returning to his sockets.

“I… _THINK_ IT WAS WITH… METTATON…” Papyrus looked down, abashed by the fuzzy memory and embarrassed that there was even a hint of doubt at who the other parent might be.

“you think?”

Papyrus buried his face in his hands with a whine, having every intention to never surface again. “W-WELL! IT WAS AT HIS PARTY—THE ONE AFTER THE MONSTER ACCEPTANCE EVENT, YOU KNOW? AND WE WERE BOTH PRETTY DRUNK AND THE MEMORY IS FUZZY AND I DON’T THINK HE EVEN REMEMBERS IT AND I GUESS I MIGHT HAVE THOUGHT ABOUT HOW NICE IT MIGHT BE TO… HAVE CHILDREN WITH HIM? BECAUSE HE WAS SO SWEET AND CARING AND OH MY GOD!”

“alright, alright, you don’t have to go into detail, i got it!” When Papyrus peeked through his fingers, he saw that it was Sans’ turn to glow in embarrassment, his cheeks shining a bright blue at the (rather tame, in his opinion) description of the night that he’d had with Mettaton.

“I GUESS HE MUST HAVE WANTED IT TOO…” Papyrus dropped his hands from his face, cupping one over his chest. A tiny souling, not yet descended, the product of his and Mettaton’s drunken coupling. _Wowie_.

“guess so.” Sans was still uncomfortable, voice gruff and shoulders tense, but he was taking things rather well, considering Papyrus just dumped the fact that he was pregnant right on top of him, and Sans hadn’t even known he was interested in _anyone_ prior to the news. “that’s the only way it could’ve happened.”

Papyrus didn’t say anything for a moment, just breathed. “OH MY GOD.”

“yeah.” Aside from the discomfort of realizing that his brother was an _adult,_ Sans’ face was largely unreadable. His eyelights were locked onto Papyrus, watching him, trying to read him. He didn’t offer much else, leaving it to Papyrus to continue himself.

“I HAVE TO TELL HIM.” Papyrus blanched at the thought. “I’M GOING TO HAVE TO TELL HIM THAT THIS BABY—THAT THIS BABY IS HIS. _OURS_.”

“only if you want to, bro. you don’t gotta do nothing if you don’t want to.”

He shook his head hard. One of his hands pressed against his chest, cradling over where his soul remained safely within his ribcage. If he concentrated, he could feel the soothing pulse of it and, just beneath that, the hint of the developing soul pulsing in time with it. Papyrus shut his eye sockets, focusing on the souling, directing adoration toward it. With the high-stress morning he’d had, he wanted the soul to continue its growth with love and affection.

“NO! I HAVE TO. I WANT TO! IT WOULDN’T BE FAIR IF I JUST KEPT IT A SECRET FROM HIM LIKE THAT.”

Decision made, he snapped his eye sockets open, dropping his hand away from his chest. There was a determined set in his jaw, unfaltering. Until something vital occurred to him, and he deflated.

“I DON’T KNOW HOW TO CONTACT HIM.” It wasn’t as if they had exchanged post-coitus phone numbers. He couldn’t even remember where Mettaton had gone however hours it’d been after he’d fallen asleep and woken up with his mind still fuzzy and wearing only the MTT shirt that he’d been given before it’d all happened.

“you can ask alphys. i’m sure she’d be more than willing to help you out. or if not her, then undyne. if you tell her what’s up, then i bet she’ll totally help you double team alphys and get you a super special meeting with your baby daddy.”

“ _SANS_!” Papyrus snapped, cheekbones flushed a bright orange. “DON’T CALL HIM THAT!”

“what, baby daddy?” The corner of Sans’ mouth tilted up in a sly grin. “isn’t that what he is though?”

Papyrus let out a frustrated noise, pushing past his brother in a huff. So much for letting up on the teasing for the day! “NEVERMIND! I HAVE AN UNDERNET MESSAGE TO SEND!”

It technically didn’t have to be Undernet. Since the barrier came down and Undyne and Alphys were a _thing_ , Papyrus had obtained the latter’s phone number. If he wanted to, he could simply text her. Somehow though, the former royal scientist answered with much more haste when it was online. A text could go unanswered for days, either ignored or forgotten about, and calling the anxious monster was nigh impossible. Private messaging on Undernet was the best way to catch and hold Alphys’ attention.

He dropped down into his chair in front of the computer. Undernet was already open.

> _**COOLSKELETON95:** DR. ALPHYS! I HAVE A VITAL!! AND VERY! IMPORTANT! REQUEST TO MAKE OF YOU!!!_
> 
> _**ALPHYS:** lol good morning papyrus. what do you need?_

Papyrus didn’t think that he had to inform her that it wasn’t morning at all. That wasn’t the point of his message.

> _**COOLSKELETON95:** I NEED TO KNOW WHERE I MIGHT BE ABLE TO FIND METTATON. PREFERABLY AT HIS HOME!_
> 
> _…_
> 
> _**COOLSKELETON95:** IT’S IMPORTANT!!!_

He drummed his fingers against his desk, watching the chat log with impatience. ‘ _ **ALPHYS** is typing…_ ’ occasionally popped up, only to disappear again for a time. His request must seem creepy to her, he realized, but he had to know. He had to tell Mettaton what was going on.

> _**ALPHYS:** idk i don’t think i should be giving out his address and stuff._
> 
> _**ALPHYS:** why do u need it?_

His drumming fingers stilled. It was a valid question, considering that he’d messaged her out of the blue asking her something like that. That didn’t stop the nervous twisting in his soul. He wasn’t prepared for all their friends to know about his condition just yet.

But it might help him convince Alphys to tell him what he needed to know.

> _**COOLSKELETON95:** CAN YOU KEEP A SECRET?_
> 
> _**ALPHYS:** sure! of course! what’s up?_
> 
> _**COOLSKELETON95:** BACK WHEN METTATON THREW HIS VERY COOL AFTER-PARTY, HE AND I MAY HAVE GOTTEN A LITTLE INEBRIATED AND WE MAY HAVE HAD SOME MORE… INTIMATE RELATIONS._
> 
> _**COOLSKELETON95:** AND I COULD POSSIBLY BE PREGNANT WITH HIS CHILD_
> 
> _**ALPHYS:** OMG YOU’RE JOKING_

Papyrus cringed, hoping that she really could keep quiet about this.

> _**COOLSKELETON95:** THERE IS NO JAPERY. IT’S TRUE. I HAVE SEEN THE LITTLE SOUL MYSELF AND THERE IS NO ONE ELSE THAT IT COULD POSSIBLY BE._
> 
> _**ALPHYS:** OMGOMG_
> 
> _**COOLSKELETON95:** SO WOULD YOU PLEASE TELL ME HOW TO GET INTO CONTACT WITH HIM? PREFERABLY IN PERSON! THIS IS NOT THE SORT OF MESSAGE TO DO OVER A PHONE CALL!_
> 
> _**ALPHYS:** of course! just please don’t give it out to anyone! he’ll kill me if that happened!_
> 
> _**COOLSKELETON95:** THANK YOU SO MUCH DR. ALPHYS! I PROMISE THAT I’LL KEEP IT TO MYSELF!_

And he had the address, as easy as that. It had only been _extremely_ awkward. Papyrus would consider that one a success. Now he only had to go through the anxiety-inducing event of telling the father of his child himself.

Oh boy.


	2. Spinning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tfw a skeleton comes to your door to tell you that you got him pregnant.
> 
> Mettaton is going to need to have some time to process this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I take requests and typically post things a day or two earlier on my tumblr: https://aroseandapen.tumblr.com/

The knock at his door surprised him, yanking him from the lovely story he’d been immersed in. He frowned in the direction of the sound, the gears in his head turning as he tried to guess at who the visitor could be. Was he expecting someone? Mettaton was sure that he didn’t have anything planned, save for a full day dedicated to _himself_ and the sweet relaxation away from the limelight.

Even a literal robot needed a day off to recharge his metaphorical batteries.

Maybe if he didn’t respond, whoever it was would go away. Mettaton wasn’t in the mood to socialize, exhausted from long hours spent out and about, tending to adoring fans and building a social network and working on various skills—dancing, acting, singing, speaking—and he thought that he deserved the break. His visitor could leave and come again some other day.

Unfortunately whoever it was didn’t seem to be able to glean his wishes from his lack of response. The knocking came again, louder and more insistent to be answered.

He sighed, setting his book on his coffee table, open and face-down so that he’d be able to come right back to it after he dealt with his current visitor. Rising from his couch, he made the shift from his lounging in private mode to the face he always wore in public and when dealing with people who were important to his career. As he made his way to the front door, he made a passing glance toward his wall calendar. It was covered in scribbles in pens of various colors, with notes and times and circles and lines telling him of his plans for each day.

All except for today. He’d been right. Today was the only free day he’d had all _month_.

There was a smile plastered on his face as he answered pulled his door open. A skeleton stood on his doormat, a gloved hand still raised as if to knock again. Realizing that Mettaton had answered at last, the strange monster jerked his arm back in close, clasping his hands together and offering him a nervous smile. For a moment it seemed as if the skeleton wasn’t going to say anything, a stunned look on his face that he’d seen on many fans before him.

Something was familiar about the monster’s face, and Mettaton internally squirmed at the faint recognition. Where did he know this stranger from? Had be been a fan? Had Mettaton come across him during a performance, or while signing autographs? It wasn’t a pleasant thought. He didn’t like the idea of random fans finding out where he lived and showing up at his house.

He gave the nervous monster a patient smile, well practiced from his time in the spotlight. Since the other seemed too starstruck to speak, it was up to Mettaton to initiate interaction. “Hello, darling! What brings you to Mettaton’s humble abode?”

That seemed to do the trick. The skeleton drew himself up to his full height, taking on a proud stance with his chest pushed out and chin thrust forward. Mettaton’s mouth twitched, amused at the sight despite the fact that all he wanted was to be alone once again and return to his book.

“HELLO METTATON! I HOPE IT’S BEEN A VERY GOOD DAY FOR YOU! IT HAS BEEN FOR ME, THE GREAT PAPYRUS. OR PAPYRUS, AS YOU MAY CALL ME OF COURSE. BUT IT’S BEEN GREAT AND RELAXING FOR A CHANGE, IF JUST A BIT… WELL, EXCITING! AND SO I HOPE YOU HAVE HAD… A GOOD DAY… AS WELL…”

Papyrus was a talkative sort, wasn’t he. Mettaton tilted his head to the side, adopting a casual lean against the doorframe as he suffered the monologue. He hoped that small talk wasn’t the only reason that the fan had shown up, and part of him wanted to cut him off and request to be left alone. Yet he couldn’t risk a slighted fan. Especially not one that literally had his home address.

How had he gotten Mettaton’s address in the first place? That was the most troubling part of it.

The skeleton monster coughed, as if to mimic the clearing of a throat that he clearly did not have.

“WELL ANYWAY! I’VE COME BY FOR A VERY IMPORTANT REASON!” Oh good, to the point. His smile grew easier, at last able to see the light at the end of the tunnel of their conversation. “AND NOT JUST AS A VERY BIG FAN OF YOURS! WHICH I AM, BY THE WAY! A BIG FAN, THAT IS.”

Papyrus took another pause, squeezing his hands together. Even while getting to the point, it was taking an awful long time. Mettaton nodded along with his words, resisting the urge to hurry him. He looked queasy. Hopefully he wouldn’t be sick at Mettaton’s front door. That wasn’t a mess that he wanted to deal with today.

“I HAVE COME HERE TODAY TO TELL YOU THAT… THAT I AM PREGNANT!”

Was that all?

Mettaton cocked his head to the side. Bemusement flickered across his expression, although that same patient smile remained pasted on his face. Good news, he was sure, but he didn’t even know who this monster was. It was a bit ridiculous to take the time to stalk a celebrity just to come to his house to share the unrelated news of pregnancy with him.

“Well that’s just wonderful, darling!” he said with practiced elation, giving the stranger the same treatment as any other fan. To be fair to the poor expecting monster, being pregnant wasn’t the strangest news he’d gotten from someone who admired him. For now he could humor him. “But why have you come all the way out to my home to tell me this?”

Find out the ‘why’ first, and then he could ask about how Papyrus had gotten his personal address.

“THAT’S BECAUSE THE BABY IS YOURS!”

All of his mental faculties came crashing to a halt.

“What?”

The baby… that this pregnant monster was carrying… was his…?

Papyrus was fumbling with his scarf, a panicked look crossing his face. “W-WELL I THOUGHT I’D BEEN VERY CLEAR AND NOT MUMBLE-Y, BUT I CAN SAY IT AGAIN! I’M PREGNANT WITH—!”

“No, I heard you.” Mettaton cut him off, more sharp than he intended. Papyrus shrunk in on himself, grabbing fistfuls of his scarf. He felt the barest sensation of guilt in his soul, but he ignored it. “How is this possible? I don’t even know you. I think you’re mistaken, dear. I’m sorry to tell you this, but you were tricked by an impersonator.”

“NO! NO, I WASN’T! IT WAS AT THE… AT THAT PARTY!” The passionate outburst as Papyrus denied the possibility of being fooled by a Mettaton impersonator died abruptly. He pulled at his scarf, looking nervous, unsure. “…DON’T YOU REMEMBER? ANYTHING AT ALL? WE WERE DRINKING BUT… YOU CAN’T REMEMBER ANYTHING?”

Mettaton frowned, furrowing his eyebrows as he tried to remember what this fan was so insistent on. He was sure that he _wasn’t_ the father, regardless of how positive Papyrus was about it, but it was true that he’d attended a party a few weeks back, and it was also true that he may have partaken in some stronger drinks and gotten quite inebriated. But that wasn’t a party where he would’ve mingled with too many fans. There was no way that this monster had been there.

Even though he was certain that it was impossible, there was something in the back of his mind tugging at his consciousness. Yet as he tried to summon the images of that night, they slipped through the spaces in his memory like water through his fingers. He _knew_ this monster. Somehow.

“Darling.” He’d dropped all pretenses of welcome, speaking with a firm tone. Mettaton was not about to allow himself to get roped into taking care of a monster and his child that the celebrity did not father. Even if what said monster said aligned with the shaky memories of the night in question. “I understand that it may be difficult to believe, and you must feel very foolish to fall for some imposter’s trick into giving yourself to them, but I assure you that it was not me.”

“IT’S—BUT!” Papyrus made a frustrated noise, yanking at his scarf so hard that part of Mettaton was surprised that whatever magic connecting his bones together didn’t snap under the force. “LOOK!”

Papyrus released his grip on his scarf to thrust his hands toward him. Mettaton’s frown deepened, seeing nothing in those cupped hands. Before he could ask (and he couldn’t hide his irritation at this nonsense any longer), bright white light burst into life just above the offered hands. It took almost a full minute before Mettaton realized what he was looking at, and when he did he was too stunned to tell the other monster off for _willingly offering up his soul_ to him.

Was this skeleton crazy?

“ _LOOK_!” Papyrus repeated, a little more insistent. And despite Mettaton’s inhibitions about examining the most intimate part of a monster that he didn’t even know, his curiosity got the better of him and look at it he did.

There wasn’t much to see in the soul, but as he peered into the soft glowing white, something tugged insistently at his own soul. And he felt more than saw, something _else_ contained within. Something that reached out to him, filling him with unmistakable familiarity. There was no denying what he was looking at.

But it was _impossible_.

Mettaton let out a harsh exhale, unable to tear his eyes away from the soul. “Oh.”

A part deep in his subconsciousness registered that the monster in front of him looked like he was about to cry, far away and disconnected from himself. All he could focus on was that this Papyrus was _pregnant_ , and his very soul knew that the souling was _his_ , and he still had no idea who exactly this monster was.

“YOU SEE?”

Yeah. He saw, alright.

“I… But _how_ …?”

“THAT’S WHAT I WAS TRYING TO TELL YOU! IT WAS AT THE PARTY AFTER THE MONSTER ACCEPTANCE EVENT! WE WERE BOTH DRUNK AND THEN… ‘IT’ HAPPENED! I REMEMBER SOME OF IT, BUT IT’S VERY FUZZY.” Papyrus frowned, brow bones furrowing. “YOU DON’T… YOU DON’T REMEMBER ANYTHING ABOUT ME? AT ALL?”

No. He didn’t. But that would explain why the skeleton had seemed so familiar when he first opened the door to his face.

“I’m…” Mettaton pressed a hand to the side of his head. It felt like something had broken in his head, a fearful buzz of electricity scrambling his thoughts. He needed time to process this. “I think I need a chance to think about this. Alone.”

Papyrus deflated. His hands tangled up in his scarf once again, gaze averted despite the sympathetic smile that he forced on his face. “YES OF COURSE! THIS MUST BE A LOT TO TAKE IN! I’LL GO—I’LL LET YOU HAVE A CHANCE TO LET THIS SINK IN! I AM A VERY UNDERSTANDING MONSTER OF COURSE!”

His smile strained as he spoke, but Mettaton couldn’t find it in himself to care with how unreal everything felt at the moment. He couldn’t believe that he’d gotten this monster pregnant. His mind refused to accept such a thing. He needed to be alone. Regardless, he threw on a quick smile as he retreated backwards through the door.

“Good. Good, thank you darling, I just need a little while to absorb this information. I’ll contact you later, alright?” Mettaton hadn’t even asked him for a way to contact him. Not important. “Thank you for coming, take care dear, goodbye!”

He slid inside and shut the door before the skeleton could respond.

God. When he answered the door, annoyed at being interrupted on his day off, he never imagined that he might get such news. He could feel his soul quake in his chest. It felt like he was going to be sick.

Mettaton half-expected a knock at the door, with Papyrus trying to give him his number or something like that. He dreaded the thought. The skeleton had been nice enough, a cutie that he might even entertain the thought of dating if the conversation was stimulating enough, but he just _couldn’t_ deal with him anymore today. He needed the solitude. He had to take the time to sort through his thoughts.

The book he’d been reading was left forgotten on the coffee table as Mettaton breezed through the living room. All he could think of was reaching his room and dropping into bed for a nice long nap where he didn’t have to think of any of this, and perhaps wake up to find that it was all a dream. He barely registered when he got there. The robot moved solely on autopilot, closing and locking his bedroom door behind him despite living alone.

He just needed some form of control and privacy, after his world had been flipped upside-down and spun on its head.

_How could this have **happened**?_

Mettaton could barely even remember the skeleton. He could barely remember his _name_ , he realized to his great shame. What had it been? The monster had said it, right? The celebrity hadn’t been paying a great amount of attention at the time, and the announcement had blown whatever bit of unconscious memory of the name that he had, inducing panic instead. Mettaton had been doomed from the start.

Whoever it was, it had been some drunken one-night stand that he had zero memory of. A drunken one-night stand that had resulted in the other monster’s pregnancy. By his magic. Oh _god_.

( _Papyrus_. That was right, his name was Papyrus, he’d said. The monster that he’d apparently… slept with… was named Papyrus.)

He’d gotten him pregnant! Accidental pregnancies in monsters didn’t work like he knew they did in humans. It didn’t just happen. Both monsters had to want children. It had to be mutual, and their souls had to resonate with each other in a way that Mettaton always imagined to be romantic. Yet this skeleton monster had gotten pregnant by Mettaton, and something in his soul told him that it was the truth.

And he couldn’t remember.

Mettaton didn’t want children! Well… that wasn’t necessarily true. Every now and then, he entertained the fantasies of being a parent, of having a child to love and dote on and brag about to the public. But he was a robot of sensibilities. A child was a big responsibility, one which he wasn’t able to take on at this point in his career. He certainly wouldn’t just go up to some random monster that he met at a party and knock them up, no matter how drunk he was.

Yet apparently that was exactly what he did.

Letting out a long exhale, he sunk down onto his bed. Yet even though he ran his fingers over the velvety sheets and plush pillows, the pleasing textures did nothing to soothe the turmoil in his soul, a tumultuous mess of anxiety and disbelief and shame. He was a robot of standards! He should be a better person than to sleep with someone whom he wouldn’t even remember in the morning.

Wasn’t he?

Although he’d sent Papyrus away specifically to be alone, he found that he really didn’t want to be on his own at the moment. It was all too much. Mettaton needed someone to talk to. Someone who’d understand and not judge him.

Shaky hands reached for his phone. Ignoring text messages and missed calls, he pulled up a contact to type out a quick text message to them. He hesitated before sending, reading it over a few times to ensure that he didn’t sound too panicked or desperate. Although he was in fact panicked and desperate, he didn’t want to cause too much concern (not yet, anyway).

> _**[Sent to: BLOOKY!!]** \- Hey are you doing anything right now? I have the day off and it’d be great to catch up._
> 
> _**[Sent to: BLOOKY!!]** \- I have some things I want to tell you._

Perfect. Mettaton sent off the message. His cousin wouldn’t suspect a thing, until Mettaton was well prepared to receive his sympathies and concerns.

It didn’t take long for him to receive his message.

> _**[Received from: BLOOKY!!]** \- Ah. Shyren and Burgerpants are over, but you can come over too if you want to._
> 
> _**[Received from: BLOOKY!!]** \- I could ask them to go home if you need me to._

Mettaton sighed. The thought of having an audience for this confession left a bitter taste in his mouth. But this was just Shyren and Burgerpants. They were part of his group, and once the news began to leak they would be among the first to know about it. Perhaps it was better to yank off the bandage right away while he could still control the spread of information.

> _**[Sent to: BLOOKY!!]** \- No no that’s fine Blooky-dear. That’s even better! I can tell all three of you at once!_
> 
> _**[Sent to: BLOOKY!!]** \- I’ll be right over! I’ll see you all soon!_

He set off without waiting for a response, somehow making it from his room into the driver’s seat of his small, comfortable car without remembering the trip from A to B. It was a miracle that he managed to pull himself together just enough to make it all the way to his cousin’s apartment without getting into an accident. He was grateful for the empty parking lot when he arrived, allowing him to slip up the stairs and down the hall to Napstablook’s room without having to worry about potentially running into a fan in an interaction that he wasn’t emotionally prepared to handle.

He rapped his knuckles against his cousin’s door, tapping his impatience out with his foot until the door finally opened.

“…Mettaton…?” The quiet waver of Napstablook’s voice had never been so reassuring.

“Blooky!” Just the sight of his cousin floating before him was enough to lift his mood on its own. He brightened up, clasping his hands in front of him. “It’s so good to see you!”

“You… too?” Although Napstablook sounded puzzled at his utter elation—no wonder, when they’d just seen each other the day before—he drifted back in a silent invitation for him to enter, which Mettaton immediately took. “…are you alright?”

“ _Geez_ , boss. You look like utter shit.”

Mettaton flinched, and was embarrassed for his own reaction. In the short trip over to the apartment complex, Mettaton had forgotten that his cousin had a couple of guests, Burgerpants included, and how displeasing his attitude could be.

“ _First off_ , watch your language. I will _not_ have you getting comfortable with that mouth and setting some vulgarities on a poor child in front of their parent and ruin our reputation forever.” He spoke sternly, drawing himself up to his full height to tower over the cat monster in question. No matter how distressed he might be, he would not be lax in his no-swearing policy. Not from his employees.

“Sorry, boss.” Burgerpants didn’t seem particularly apologetic despite his words. “You’re just lookin’ real frazzled though, buddy.”

He bristled, prepared to snap back that he was _fine_ and he didn’t need his concern, but he forced himself to pause, reigning those urges back in. An unsightly outburst now for nothing but a little worry from one of his workers was the last thing that he needed in such a stressful state of mind. He didn’t answer for a few moments, taking a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds, then slowly letting it go in a long exhale.

To the other’s credit, Mettaton _did_ feel like a mess. He wouldn’t be surprised if he looked the part as well.

“I guess… I am not feeling at my usual hundred percent. I just received some rather… shocking news.”

Shyren was before him, floating up so that she was eye level with him. She peeked out between the tendrils covering her face. “W-what happened?” she said, voice small and whispery in a way that, if not for the silence of the room, he might miss what she said completely.

He gave her a reassuring smile. Knowing the ghostly fish monster as he did, Mettaton knew that she would’ve elected not to speak at all if not for her worry. He appreciated the gesture. “It’s not… _horrible_ news.” Although that was debatable, in hindsight. “It’s just really thrown me for a loop. A really big, dizzying loop.”

Oh, he was going to start panicking again if he wasn’t careful. He paused to breathe again, reeling himself back into composure.

“Today I found out that I… _apparently_ got a monster pregnant, and I’m going to be a-a father,” he announced, cursing the slight stammer at the end.

“Woah, dude, holy shit, really?”

“Oh! Wow…”

“C-congrats.”

“Wait.” Burgerpants spoke up again before Mettaton could reprimand him for his language again. “What do you mean ‘ _apparently_ ’?”

That was the part that Mettaton wasn’t looking forward to admitting. He sighed, glancing around the room for something to look at other than the stares of his coworkers. They would judge him, he was sure.

“Well, I suppose I was drunk at that party we were at, and I met this—admittedly very cute—skeleton monster. And one thing led to another and I suppose we got intimate and now he’s pregnant.”

The two shyer monsters widened their eyes at the summary of what happened. Burgerpants, on the other hand, burst out laughing at his account.

“You knocked a guy up when you were drunk? Ho-oly _shit_ man.”

“Who was he?” Napstablook asked, giving him the opportunity to ignore Burgerpants’ chortling at his expense.

“ _Well_ , I know his name is Papyrus. And I… don’t actually remember anything else about him.”

Burgerpants raised an eyebrow at him. “How do you have sex with someone and not remember anything about him?”

“Well, as I said, I was drinking! The entire night is a blur to me. I don’t even remember how I got home that night, let alone anything about this skeleton monster. At least he’s got some nice looks on him.” As if that was a good defense for his frivolous one night stand. “I just can’t believe I got him _pregnant_! What on earth did I see in him? I wouldn’t just want to have a child with any handsome monster off the streets. There has to be something _more_ to him than that! I just can’t remember.”

“Why don’t you… you know… ask to hang out with him? Then you can see what he’s like?” Napstablook suggested. Shyren nodded her fervent agreement beside them.

Mettaton was quiet, giving what his cousin said some consideration. It wasn’t a bad plan, although there was a part of him that dreaded spending more time with the monster carrying the souling. He wasn’t ready to be a father! Children weren’t apart of his career path. Not while it had just begun blooming on the surface. There were humans and monsters alike to charm; to unify in their shared adoration of the robot celebrity who’d been designed to look human in his true Ex form, containing a monster’s soul. Caring for a child would get in the way of that.

“It’s not a bad idea, ya know. I’d do it. What else are ya gonna do? Just ignore him and pretend that he doesn’t even exist? Not great for ‘the group’s reputation’, boss.”

He glared at Burgerpants, not appreciating having his own words thrown back at him like that. “I wasn’t going to!” he said, despite being sorely tempted to do just that.

Burgerpants shrugged with that infuriating nonchalance of his. There was a bitter little part of him that missed the days where the cat monster was a sweaty, nervous wreck of an employee, too eager to please and avoid punishment at whatever cost. Although he knew that he preferred not to have a fearful employee beneath him, Mettaton did miss the commanding aura that he’d had over Burgerpants.

“It’s whatever ya wanna do, man. Hang out or don’t, it don’t matter to me any,” he said, picking at his teeth with one of his claws.

“Um. Don’t feel pressured to do it, though. I don’t think you should spend time with him if you don’t want to,” Napstablook added. “I mean, that’s what I think anyway.”

Shyren let out a quiet ‘ _mm-hmm_ ’. Her fins tapped together in a little rhythm, a small little habit of hers. It seemed all three of them agreed that hanging out with Papyrus was the best action to take here. Considering he trusted them, although Burgerpants’ trustworthiness was debatable at times, he should probably take their advice.

“Alright, I’ll message him at some point and see if he wants to hang out.”

Mettaton was sure that the monster would like that. He got the sense that, even though Papyrus did have a valid reason to come speak to him in person, he was still a big MTT fan. The monster had just had that sort of look about him, of a star-struck fan. _Oh_ , he’d gotten a fan pregnant.

He hoped that he hadn’t taken advantage of the poor guy. That would look very bad on him.

“Oh!”

His outburst made the other three monsters jump, both Shyren and Napstablook drifted back from him. They looked up at him with a startled expression, but didn’t say anything. It was Burgerpants who spoke up for them, his expression twitching into something between concern and annoyance.

“What? What are you yelling for?”

Mettaton couldn’t keep the sheepish look off of his face, rubbing the back of his head. “Well, after being told the news, all I could think of was getting some peace and quiet. I may have forgotten to ask for any way to contact him after I had a chance to process this…”

“ _Geeeeez_.”

“Oh…”

“A-ahm…” Shyren surprised him by speaking up, clearing her throat. She kept her mouth hidden behind a fin, her already quiet voice muffled behind the obstruction. “Could… could y-you maybe… ask Dr. Alphys? she knows about a-almost everyone from back Underground.”

“You’re exactly right, darling! Alphys seems to have connections with all sorts of monsters. I’m sure she’ll be able to point me in the right direction.” Even better, she probably wouldn’t ask too many questions if he gave her some banal reason for needing to know about Papyrus. He was already pulling his phone out of his pocket. “If anything, if he has an Undernet account, she’ll absolutely know it!”

Oh, even better. Her last status update had been just minutes before. It was something about her “new OTP!!!”, and nothing of any interest to him. The important part was that she was probably still online. Not that she was ever _offline_ , but he was more likely to get a swift response, which was what he really needed right now.

> _**MTT:** Alphys darling, I have a favor to ask of you._
> 
> _**MTT:** Please respond as soon as you can! Thank you!_

Mettaton wasn’t left waiting long.

> _**ALPHYS:** OMG! what do u need???_
> 
> _**MTT:** Do you know if a skeleton named Papyrus has an account on here? And if so what is his account?_
> 
> _**ALPHYS:** OMGOMG did he talk to you already?!?!_

Mettaton frowned at her last message. What sort of question was that? Did she actually know the monster that he was talking about? And did he already tell _her_ about his condition?

Well, at least he was secure in the knowledge that Papyrus couldn’t have chosen a better monster to keep a secret.

> _**MTT:** Yes. He came over today. Has he spoken to you about anything?_
> 
> _**ALPHYS:** yes! he told me what was happening and so i told him where u live so he could tell u the news in person._
> 
> _**ALPHYS:** sorry, i should’ve asked you if it was alright first._
> 
> _**ALPHYS:** i just didn’t want to spoil the surprise!!!_

Ugh. Mettaton wished that she _had_ spoiled the surprise.

At least Mettaton had now solved the mystery about how Papyrus had gotten his address to begin with. He should have guessed that it would be her, but how could he suspect that Papyrus was on speaking terms with Alphys anyway? He barely even knew the guy. If they had similar social circles, Mettaton was sure that their paths would’ve crossed at least a couple of times.

He only hoped that Papyrus was good enough at keeping secrets and that he’d keep where his house was a secret.

> _**MTT:** It’s fine, dear. Just tell me if he has an Undernet account and we’re even._
> 
> _**ALPHYS:** he does! it’s coolskeleton95!_
> 
> _**ALPHYS:** let me know how it goes!_
> 
> _**MTT:** Thank you Alphys. I’ll keep you updated. Talk to you later, toodles!_

Yikes. At least it had been easy, if not completely embarrassing. Already four of the people that he saw frequently knew about his situation, and he had no idea who else Papyrus would’ve told on his own. He wanted to keep things as quiet as possible until he was able to get his bearings about it.

He looked up ‘coolskeleton95’ in the search bar. The skeleton’s face grinned out from his profile picture—wait, did he seriously photoshop sunglasses onto the image? Why not wear actual sunglasses? He sighed, just barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes with the other three monsters still in the room with him.

The actual Undernet profile wasn’t much better. How many times did one monster have to say how cool they were before they got their message across? It reminded him of how Papyrus had introduced himself. ‘The Great Papyrus’. Such a title lacked class. Mettaton believed himself to be great and talented, and wasn’t afraid to say so, but he also knew when not to say those things and to allow his actions to speak for themselves. Everyone would know his merits by observing him, no bragging speech required. _Show_ it, don’t tell it.

He began a private conversation. Short and sweet.

> _**MTT:** Hello darling._
> 
> _**COOLSKELETON95:** OH!! METTATON???!_
> 
> _**MTT:** Correct. Sorry I was so hasty in sending you away today. I just needed some time to process what was going on._
> 
> _**COOLSKELETON95:** NO WORRIES! THAT IS COMPLETELY FINE! I AM A VERY UNDERSTANDING PERSON, AFTER ALL! TAKE ALL THE TIME YOU NEED!_
> 
> _**MTT:** Well, now that I’ve had some time to think about it, I was wondering if you wanted to hang out some point in the near future?_
> 
> _**MTT:** We can take some time to get to know each other._

There was a long silence from Papyrus. Mettaton frowned at his phone as the other didn’t respond. His eyes flicked up to the top bar of his phone, checking the internet connection. When that was fine, he returned his gaze to the conversation. No response still. Papyrus was just talking to him. Did he suddenly dust on the spot? Or something to that effect?

Had his message not gone through?

> _**MTT:** Darling?_
> 
> _**COOLSKELETON95:** SORRY!!! THAT SOUNDS LIKE A GREAT IDEA!_
> 
> _**COOLSKELETON95:** I KNOW THE BESTIEST PLACE TO HANG OUT! MY HOUSE!! HOW DOES THAT SOUND?_

Well, it sounded better than anything that Mettaton could come up with. Less effort on his part, at least. He was grateful that he didn’t have to put on a smile as he messaged Papyrus back.

> _**MTT:** Sounds lovely, darling. Is this weekend alright? Saturday?_
> 
> _**COOLSKELETON95:** SOUNDS GREAT!!! I’LL SPEND THE TIME FIGURING OUT ALL SORTS OF FUN THINGS WE CAN DO WHEN WE HANG OUT!!! I HAVE A MANUAL JUST FOR THIS OCCASION, SO YOU CAN REST ASSURED THAT IT’LL BE THE BEST HANG OUT OF YOUR ENTIRE LIFE!!_

Mettaton decided it best not to ask about the other’s ‘manual’, despite his bemusement at its mention. Who needed a manual for hanging out with someone? What a strange monster this Papyrus was.

> _**MTT:** Great! I’ll see you then, darling. Good bye!_
> 
> _**COOLSKELETON95:** GOODBYE METTATON!!! I CAN’T WAIT!_

“There. It’s done. I’m going to go over to his house to hang out this weekend,” he said, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

“I still can’t believe you forgot meeting someone. Who you had _sex_ with.”

“Ugh. I was _drunk_. He was as well. I’m surprised he remembers me at all.” Mettaton hoped that he wouldn’t have to spend the rest of his life defending himself from Burgerpants. The jabs at his forgotten one-night stand was getting very old, _very_ fast.

Burgerpants opened his mouth, presumably to make another snide comment, but he fell silent when Shyren moved between him and Mettaton. She said nothing, but held up a movie case and gave a quizzical look to each monster in the room in turn.

“Ohh, wonderful idea, Shyren!” Mettaton exclaimed, pouncing on the opportunity to move the conversation away from him and his mistakes and onto something else.

Yet as the four monsters settled onto Napstablook’s couch and started up the movie, Mettaton couldn’t stop dwelling on the Undernet conversation he’d had with Papyrus. He wasn’t sure if this was a good idea at all. Papyrus was eager and earnest, even in text, but he’d seemed rather… well, childish wasn’t quite the word he wanted, but Papyrus certainly didn’t seem that mature, from the brief glimpse he’d gotten of the skeleton’s Undernet profile. And this was a monster who was going to have a child in less than a year.

Mettaton wasn’t sure he’d made the right decision to spend time with him.

…Too late to change his mind now.


	3. Hesitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That could've gone much better. Fortunately, Papyrus has his brother to be there for him when things go south, and to remind him that he has plenty of people who'll be there to support him. And a brother to understand that sometimes, when you decide to have a hang out with the other father of your child, it's best to let you have the house to your self.
> 
> But it is absolutely NOT a date!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I post these things a couple of days early, take requests, and do random drabbles on my tumblr: http://aroseandapen.tumblr.com

Despite his best efforts at meandering on his way home, eventually he rolled up into his driveway. Unfortunately.

Papyrus was hesitant to go inside. Although he hoped against hope that his brother would’ve decided to suddenly go off on some surprise errand so that he could have a good extra hour before having to face the music, he knew that was about as likely as  _The Dog_  leaving him alone at last. It was never going to happen. But he just  _didn’t_  want to talk to his brother again quite yet. Not with weight that’d come to rest at the bottom of his soul.

The visit hadn’t gone well at all.

He stared at the door, snatching up those few precious moments before going to face Sans. Yet even as he stood there, examining the pattern of the wood on the door, he knew that there wasn’t any use in remaining outside and avoiding his brother. It wasn’t about to get any easier. Sighing, he steeled himself and went inside.

“hey bro.” As predicted, Sans lounged on the couch, tilting his head to look over at him from where he laid across the armrest. “how’d your talk with the box go?”

His breath hitched despite himself, even as he forced a bright smile onto his face.

“ONLY AS GREAT AS CAN BE EXPECTED! IT WAS OBVIOUS THAT I WOULD CHARM METTATON WITH MY HANDSOME LOOKS AND SUAVE WORDS! THERE’S NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT AT ALL!”

Sans frowned. He seemed doubtful of his account of what happened, perhaps even more so when Papyrus didn’t insist that Mettaton rarely went out into his original (glorious) boxy form anymore. “really? so he’s totally cool with it?”

“OF COURSE HE WAS! HE WAS OVERJOYED WITH THE NEWS. AND WHO WOULDN’T BE?”  _Most_  people wouldn’t, to be honest, but he didn’t say that. He bowled through the living room, aiming for the relative privacy of the kitchen as his excuse for it tumbled out of his mouth in a rush. “ANYWAY, THERE IS DINNER TO BE HAD, AND FOOD TO BE PREPARED FOR IT, AND THERE’S NO POINT IN WASTING ANOTHER MINUTE, OK? I WILL CALL YOU WHEN IT IS READY, GOODBYE!”

He didn’t dare glance over his shoulder to see if his excuses had worked. It took all of his willpower to keep the tremor out of his voice, and to not tremble beneath the reality of the situation. Papyrus didn’t think that he’d be able to meet his brother’s questioning gaze. Not right now.

Papyrus didn’t stop moving when he got into the kitchen. Despite the fact that he’d already attempted spaghetti earlier in the day, thwarted by a sudden bout of what turned out to be morning sickness, he had to do something to keep himself busy, and cooking was the only thing that he could think of doing. It was familiar enough to be calming, and he did it so frequently that he could do it mindlessly. And so, although he preferred not to make the same dish multiple times a day anymore, really it was his only choice.

Back in the living room, he heard the shifting of fabric, followed by the shuffle of slippers against the carpet as Sans made his way into the kitchen after him. Papyrus gritted his teeth. He was both touched that Sans would come check up on him and irritated by the very same thing. He didn’t want to talk about this yet!

Couldn’t Sans just pretend to believe him and leave it at that?

Sensing his brother enter the room, Papyrus threw himself into his task. He made it a point to make as much noise as possible, for added busy effect, clanging pots and pans against each other, letting glass jars rattle against the counters, doing everything that he could to ignore Sans’ presence.

Just as he was setting a pot of water on the stove to boil, Sans reached out to stop him.

“ _SANS_!”

He was thoroughly annoyed by the interruption. Turning to face Sans, he jerked his hands away from his brother’s grip, not bothering to hide his irritation.

“you already tried doing spaghetti today, bro,” Sans informed him, as if Papyrus weren’t already fully aware of that fact.

“I KNOW! I NEVER FINISHED!” And after that Papyrus had been too nauseous at the thought to eat anything else, and Sans had eaten wherever he went to when Papyrus wasn’t cooking. “I’M DOING IT NOW!”

“bro, what exactly did mettaton say to you when you told him the news?” he asked, cutting through his explanation.

“HE—HE JUST SAID THAT—HE TOLD ME CONGRATULATIONS! AND HE WAS H-HAPPY FOR ME AND THAT—WELL, HE TOLD ME THAT—!” Papyrus struggled to find an easy line between lie and augmented truth, and in the end he found himself choking on his words. “H-HE JUST—I DON’T KNOW. HE SAID HE NEEDED TIME TO THINK ABOUT IT.”

Papyrus let out a sound that was half-sob, half-laugh. He leaned against the counter behind him, his arms wrapped around himself and shoulders hunched forward. His carefully pieced together facade was crumbling around him.

He was shaking, taking breaths in short hiccuping gasps.

“I—I SHOULDN’T HAVE EVEN GONE, SANS. I FREAKED HIM OUT. HE  _HATES_  ME. HE DOESN’T EVEN HAVE MY NUMBER, HOW IS HE SUPPOSED TO CALL ME?” He wasn’t, that was how. “I MESSED EVERYTHING UP AND HE’S PROBABLY GOING TO TELL PEOPLE THAT I’M A STALKER THAT SHOWED UP AT HIS HOUSE AND—AND, OH MY GOD.”

He felt sick. He’d shown Mettaton his soul. It was the most intimate part of himself, and he just shoved it in the poor guy’s face without even asking if he’d be comfortable with it. Papyrus had been so sure that if he could just convince Mettaton that it was his child that Papyrus was pregnant with, then everything would fall into place and it would turn out fine.

Papyrus hadn’t even considered Mettaton’s feelings on the matter.

Papyrus should’ve taken things slow. He should’ve contacted Mettaton first, and laid the news on him gently. He should’ve never shown up on the celebrity’s doorstep the way that he did.

He should’ve… He  _should’ve_ …

“H-HE HATES ME, I MESSED EVERYTHING UP, SANS.”

Pressure built up in his eye sockets, stinging tears building up inside them. He rubbed at them, sniffing and blinking rapidly to keep the tears from falling.

“hey, hey, you didn’t mess anything up.”

Sans laid a hand on his shoulder, rubbing reassurance up and down his arm. Papyrus didn’t respond, his jaw clenched and his gaze glued to the floor. When the silence didn’t end, his brother continued speaking.

“i don’t know what’s up with the ‘bot, but he’s seriously missing out. you’re a really great guy, and you’re gonna make an awesome parent to a kid who’s just as great.” Sans’ hand moved to his back, making soothing circles against his shoulder blades. “and if the dude’s not down for that, then it’s his loss and _fuck_  him.”

The swear startled a laugh out of him, shaking loose the tears gathered in the rim of his eye sockets. He quickly wiped them away before they could roll down his cheekbones.

“SANS, YOUR LANGUAGE,” he said, though his heart wasn’t in the reprimand. “B-BUT, I THINK DOING  _THAT_  WAS WHAT GOT ME INTO THIS MESS IN THE FIRST PLACE, BROTHER.”

The hand at his back stilled, a questioning look shot up his way. Papyrus’ face grew hot. Alright, stupid joke; he shouldn’t even have said anything. Yet just as he was about to take it back, realization crossed Sans’ face.

He chuckled, patting Papyrus’ back.

“right, my bad. but you know what i mean. forget about him, paps. even if he doesn’t want to be involved with you and the kid, you’ll still have me. and undyne. and alphys and toriel and a whole bunch of people here to support you.”

Well, it wasn’t something that he acquiesced to very often, but Sans was right. Yet even knowing that so many people would surely support him warmed his insides, it didn’t quite settle the churning in his soul. It did help though. A lot.

Sniffing, he gave his brother a small smile, more genuine than the bright looks he’d forced on his face just minutes before.

“THANK YOU, SANS. I APPRECIATE IT.”

“no problem bro,” Sans said, dropping his hand from Papyrus’ back to lean against the counter at his side. He bumped his shoulder against his arm. “you know i’m always going to be here for you. no matter what.”

“YES. I KNOW.” It was still nice to hear it sometimes, though, and it lessened the despair that had made its home in his soul.

They fell into a comfortable silence, Sans offering the comfort of his company and Papyrus wondering how to proceed, in case Mettaton really didn’t want anything to do with him and their kid. It’d be fine, even then. He had Sans, and so many other people to support him. So many people who cared about him. They’d be happy for him; they’d want to be part of his child’s life. There wouldn’t be any lack of love for the brand new soul when they came into the world.

He sniffed again, the tears drying from his sockets. Papyrus was so lucky to have so many people in his life that would be there for him, and it amazed him—a once largely-friendless skeleton now with tons of them.

Surprisingly enough, it was Sans who broke the quiet, giving a small cough as if to clear a throat that he didn’t have. He leaned his weight on Papyrus, glancing up at him. “so… you gonna keep making spaghetti?”

“WELL…” Papyrus thought about it for a beat. “NO. I DON’T ACTUALLY FEEL MUCH LIKE IT.”

He’d only wanted to cook because he was too rattled over his less-than-positive interaction with Mettaton, and he wanted the distraction from it. Now that he had called own, the urge to continue had disappeared to be replaced by a weariness in his bones. Papyrus just wanted to go to his room and lie down, in all honesty.

“ok. mind if i go get something from grillby’s? you want me to get you anything?”

“NOTHING GREASY!” Papyrus was quick to say, frowning. Just the thought of putting some gross grease-soaked abomination into his body was enough to make him feel queasy again. He hesitated a moment before adding, “BUT PERHAPS A MILKSHAKE? THAT WOULD BE NICE?”

“right. i gotcha. sit tight and i’ll be right back in a flash.”

And so once again Sans went out while Papyrus remained at home. Papyrus rested his hand against his sternum, looking down at himself. It didn’t feel good to stay back doing nothing while his brother, the usual lazybones of the family, went out and did things for him. Their roles really had been reversed, and he should be happy for Sans putting in so much effort for once. In a way he was pleased by how supportive and helpful that his brother had been throughout such a stressful and emotional day.

Yet Papyrus just hated being idle more than anything in the world (except for perhaps grease, where just thinking of it made him shudder).

So he refused to rest. He’d been resting for most of the day anyway! He cleared away his cooking things, and got to tidying the kitchen and then the living room. Before he got into more than some light cleaning, however, Sans was back with Grillby’s, and the brothers settled down to enjoy their dinner.

“SANS!” Papyrus had gaped when he saw the size of the cup that Sans had set in front of him, informing him that it was his shake. He didn’t even think that he could drink so much, and was prepared to chide his brother for spending more money than he had to. “YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO GET SUCH A BIG ONE.”

Sans shrugged. “relax, bro, it was free anyway.”

Papyrus’ brow bones slammed together. He shot his brother a suspicious look. “FREE? WHY?”

“grillby wanted to say congrats on the lil tot on its way.”

“I—!” Papyrus sputtered. “YOU TOLD HIM THAT I WAS PREGNANT?  _SANS_!”

That was a private matter, and although he knew that eventually everyone would be privy to that information, Papyrus was still reeling too much from the day’s events to think of telling people about his condition. At least not more people than he had to.

“hey, you know that grillbz won’t tell anyone. i asked him to keep it under wraps for me. and he wanted to know how you are, since you haven’t been around much since you quit.”

“I’VE BEEN BUSY,” he said immediately, his mouth in a line.

Although he had built up a tolerance for the greasy foods and an appreciation for the ‘ _healthier_ ’ items on the menu, Papyrus didn’t have much of a desire to go back. Which, he thought with a hint of guilt, wasn’t fair to Grillby. Despite the fact that Papyrus was quite vocal about his distaste of the place in the past, the fire monster had been kind enough to give him a job when humans weren’t inclined to hire monsters at all.

It had given him good experience to put on his resume when he did move on from that job, and humans began to get used to the presence of monsters on the surface. Grillby was a good monster.

That didn’t mean that he wanted him knowing that he was pregnant! Not yet!

“he knows. he just wants to know what’s up with his former best employee is all. so i told him. in confidence. don’t worry, paps, he won’t say anything to anybody—and look. free shake.”

Papyrus groaned, shaking his head at his brother’s nonchalance. “WELL, YOU CAN’T JUST TELL PEOPLE ABOUT MY CONDITION! AT LEAST NOT WITHOUT  _ASKING_  ME FIRST! I DON’T CARE HOW TRUSTWORTHY THEY MIGHT BE! I’M NOT READY FOR PEOPLE TO KNOW, SANS.”

Sans actually had the decency to look a bit apologetic. “right. sorry, won’t happen again.”

“NOT EVEN FOR FREE STUFF! I MEAN IT, SANS.”

He nodded. “not even for free stuff. i promise.”

“WELL! GOOD, THEN!”

The two of them dropped back off into silence, both turning their attention to their respective meals. Part of Papyrus wanted to refuse the milkshake, knowing that his brother had  _manipulated_  Grillby into giving it to them for free, which he was still seething about even though he’d decided to forgive his brother this once. But, well, if he didn’t drink it then it would waste the work put into making it, and the thoughtfulness behind the gift. Even if said gift was a milkshake, that didn’t lessen how much he appreciated it.

Maybe manipulated was too strong a word anyway. From the short time that Papyrus had graced the bar and grill with his labor, he knew that Grillby cared for his regulars, considering many of them to be friends, and that he cared about his employees. The elemental would probably have offered a milkshake to him of his own volition had Papyrus gone down to Grillby’s himself to share the news.

That was just how Grillby was.

Unbidden, the image of Mettaton’s face when he asked Papyrus to leave rose to the surface of his thoughts. When he sent him off without any indication that he’d even attempt to get in contact with him ever again. Papyrus cringed. And perhaps making people uncomfortable and pushing them away was just how Papyrus was.

(There was a reason why he’d grown up largely friendless, he supposed.)

“bro? you ok?”

His sudden discomfort must have been obvious, because Sans was fixing him with a concerned look. Papyrus resisted the urge to drop his gaze to the table, forcing a smile on his face. They’d already been over this very issue; he couldn’t bother Sans with it again, as if nothing had been resolved.

“OH YES! OF COURSE! IT’S JUST BEEN A LONG DAY, YOU KNOW? I’M JUST A BIT TIRED.”

Sans stared at him for what felt like an eternity, eyelights roaming his face as if searching for the lie. Either he didn’t find it or he just didn’t want to call Papyrus out on it, because he simply nodded his agreement.

“yeah. i get you. sometimes i just feel like i’ve been worn  _down to the bone_.”

Papyrus stood up, shoving his chair back with a loud screech across the floor. “UGH! I’M NOT GOING TO CONSENT TO BE APART OF THIS! I’M GOING TO BED, AND YOU CAN TELL YOUR AWFUL JOKES TO YOURSELF!”

Sans’ mouth twitched up into a grin. He gave Papyrus a lazy wink. “aw, bro, don’t get so rattled, i’m just  _ribbin_  ya. have fun sleeping, though, i bet you’re great at it. you can do it with your eyes closed.”

“LEAVING! THIS IS ME EXITING THE ROOM! I CANNOT HEAR ANOTHER OF THESE HORRENDOUS PUNS, GOODBYE SANS!”

“wait, wait, i’ve got one that’s a real rib-tickler—”

“I’M GONE GOODBYE!” And before Sans could squeeze out yet another terrible joke, Papyrus slipped into the safety of his room, slamming the door shut behind him.

Phew. Alone at last.

All at once, his mood came crashing to the ground. Papyrus deflated, shoulders slumped and back pressed against the closed door. Sans’ words hadn’t been forgotten, of course. On the contrary, there was a faint part of him that still warmed at the thought of how many people would support him through this pregnancy. There were so many who was still love and care for him regardless of what Mettaton now thought of him. And yet… And yet.

Papyrus shuddered, his bones giving a quiet rattle. Arms wrapped tight around himself, he shuffled his way to the bed, slowly sinking down onto his mattress. All the support that he knew for a fact that he would have, and still…

The stricken look on Mettaton’s face just  _wouldn’t_  get out of his head.

He groaned, burying his face in his hands.  _Why_  couldn’t he have waited and planned a better way to break the news to him? Why did he had to go and show up, like an over-eager fan seeking attention from his celebrity crush? Was he even any better than a fan who stalked a celebrity just for their attention?

If Mettaton never wanted to see him again, he had every right to. Papyrus had been so stupid, driving Mettaton away before they could even begin to know each other—and Mettaton  _didn’t_ know him! It was clear that the robot didn’t even remember the intimate night that the two of them had shared. Papyrus seemed like just a creep to him, and he knew it.

Self hatred surged over him, crashing down like a tidal wave. He clenched his jaw so hard that it ached.  _Stupid_. Couldn’t he just act like a normal monster for once? Why did he have to act like such a freak?  _Why was he so_ —?

His phone chirped at him, bringing him out of his thoughts with a start. He fished it out of his pocket, half-dazed and confused. He hadn’t been expecting a call at all. Perhaps it was Undyne, checking in on him after his sick day?

He checked his notifications, and nearly dropped his phone.

> _**MTT:**  Hello darling._

His soul raced, hot against the inside of his ribcage. That username was more familiar to him than his own, occasionally popping up in the comments on Alphys’ posts. He never knew what was on the profile, set only to be viewed by people who Mettaton was friends with, but it was still easily recognizable.

It was a privacy setting that Papyrus didn’t personally see the appeal of, but he also wasn’t quite the widely known celebrity that Mettaton was.

He answered immediately, thrilled by the contact. Despite not asking for Papyrus’ phone number, Mettaton still endeavored to find out how to get in touch! It couldn’t have been easy, what with Papyrus’ own cleverly disguised online persona. Mettaton obviously put good effort into finding him.

Perhaps he didn’t hate Papyrus’ metaphorical guts after all.

When Mettaton asked to hang out with him, he really did drop his phone.

“OH! OH NO!” He scrambled for his phone, fumbling with it before he could finally regain his grip.

Mettaton wanted to hang out! With him! Even after what Papyrus had gone to his house to tell him (or perhaps it was because of that). Papyrus knew the perfect place that they could go.

His house!

There was so much to be done. Mettaton deserved only the best, and he had to plan everything out accordingly. He could use his dating manual! Although it obviously wasn’t going to be a date, he could probably gain some useful insight by studying it thoroughly.

Saturday! They were going to hang out this very weekend. Papyrus was _so_  excited.

He had to tell Sans! Papyrus sprang up from his bed and dashed to his bedroom door.

“SANS! OH MY GOD,  _SANS_!”

Papyrus was shrieking, making quite a bit of noise as he stormed out of his room, and he didn’t even care that people outside could probably hear him. He was much too excited to keep his voice down.

“bro? bro, what’s wrong?” Sans exited the kitchen just as Papyrus rounded the corner into the living room. Worry was etched into his brother’s face, and Papyrus felt fleeting guilt for causing it, before the feeling was blown over by elation once again.

“METTATON MESSAGED ME ONLINE!” Papyrus waved his phone in front of Sans’ face, hopping in place with unconstrained excitement. “HE FOUND MY USERNAME ON UNDERNET AND SENT ME A PRIVATE MESSAGE!”

“oh?” Sans’ tone was neutral, once again not giving anything away. “what’d he say?”

Papyrus brought his hands together, squeezing his phone between them. A smile split across his face, refusing to be suppressed. “HE WANTS TO HANG OUT WITH ME! HE’S GOING TO COME OVER ON SATURDAY!”

“is that so?” Sans arched one of his brows, one corner of his mouth quirked up in an uncertain smile. “you sound excited.”

“I AM! OH MY GOD, METTATON IS ACTUALLY GOING TO COME OVER AND HANG OUT WITH ME! I’M SO EXCITED!” If Papyrus had eyes, he was sure they’d be sparkling with how his soul soared and his face brightened. “OH MY GOD, SANS, HE _DOESN’T_  HATE ME AFTER ALL!”

“told you you’re a great dude, bro. anyone would be lucky to hang out with you.”

“YOU WERE RIGHT! I CAN’T WAIT TO HANG OUT WITH HIM! JUST ME AND HIM! HE WILL DEFINITELY BE BLOWN AWAY BY MY LOVELY PERSONALITY WHEN HE COMES OVER!”

Sans’ face softened into something warmer, mouth set in a gentle smile as he tilted his head to look up at Papyrus. “just you and him, huh? lemme guess, you want to have the house to yourself on saturday?”

Papyrus clasped his hands together, giving his brother a pleading look. “PLEASE???”

For a moment, Sans didn’t respond, and Papyrus briefly wondered if his brother would actually  _refuse_. In the end he didn’t, giving a sigh as he relented.

“welp, can’t say no to that. guess i’ll find some way to be busy on saturda— _oof_!”

The rest of what he had to say was cut off by Papyrus as he threw himself at his brother in a hug. They both tipped dangerously forward—or backward, in Sans’ case—and Sans grabbed at his arms as if to hold himself upright. When they didn’t go crashing into a bony heap to the floor, Papyrus felt the tension drop away from his brother’s shoulders, and Sans returned the embrace.

“THANK YOU SO MUCH, YOU’RE THE BEST!”

Sans let out a huff that fell just short of a laugh. “don’t mention it bro, i got your back.”

Sans  _was_  the best, and with a whole day where Papyrus was promised the house all to himself—and Mettaton!—all that was left to do was plan for the big day. His best bet was of course the dating manual. Even if it wasn’t a date. No matter how many times Sans slyly mentioned it to him in the coming days. And oh boy was that a nightmare.

“so bro, ready for your hot date with your baby daddy?” he’d ask around a mouthful of cereal, managing to both fluster and disgust Papyrus at the same time.

He’d slap his hands over his face, cheekbones burning and soul screaming inside his ribcage. Sans really wasn’t ever going to give up that embarrassing way to refer to Mettaton, was he? “IT’S NOT A DATE!!! WE’RE JUST HANGING OUT!”

“oops, right. sorry, bro,” Sans would say without sounding the least bit apologetic. He’d even have the nerve to  _grin_  at Papyrus. Ugh! “i mean, you’ve been looking at that dating manual for two days straight now, so i sort of forgot.”

He took everything positive he’d ever said about Sans back! Sans was actually the  _worst_.

“IT’S JUST A REFERENCE, SANS! LEAVE ME ALONE!” And he’d stomp out of the room before his brother could needle him further.

It really was just for reference. The only people he planned hang-outs with were Undyne and Frisk, and neither of them could be compared to the confident celebrity that was Mettaton. Dating really was just a friendship with the possibility of a kiss at the end of it, right? Right!

Which, now that he was thinking about it, Mettaton was a really good kisser. And that was when he was drunk. Papyrus could only imagine the magic those lips could perform on him when the both of them were sober.

“UGH, STOP IT!” He slapped his own face, shaking his head so hard that it hurt to banish those thoughts from it. This was totally platonic! There would be no kissing involved!

Even if he really wished there would be.

Cheeks flushed, he pushed his face into his book, forcing himself to focus more on the task at hand and less on hypothetical kisses that would take his breath away.

It was a miracle when Papyrus shooed Sans out of his house on Saturday morning without so much as a tremble in his hands. He tugged at his shirt, brushed a hand over the top of his skull, made sure that absolutely everything about himself was in order for Mettaton to come over. Papyrus had prepared and he had studied for the day! He was ready! There was nothing to be anxious about in the slightest.

Until he heard the knocking at the door and his soul attempted to do a triple backflip into a somersault out of his chest.

“I’M COMING!” he called, and gave himself one last good once-over in the mirror before marching up to the door.

He was ready, he was strong, he was _doing_  this!

Papyrus pulled open the door.

“Hello, Papyrus.” Mettaton wore that same fabricated smile he’d had on his face when Papyrus had first shown up at his house—polite, but ultimately fake. It made Papyrus falter with his own smile, but he resolved to turn Mettaton’s pleasant expression into a genuine one. “Thank you for inviting me over, I hope I arrived at a decent enough time.”

“OF COURSE! THANK YOU FOR COMING!” He took a big step back, sweeping an arm out in invitation. “PLEASE COME IN!”

“Thank you, darling.” Mettaton entered his house, shoulder brushing against his chest in a way that made Papyrus’ nonexistent breath catch in the process.

Shaking himself, Papyrus quickly closed the door and moved to the center of the living room.

“WELCOME TO MY HUMBLE ABODE! CASA DE LA PAPYRUS—AND MY BROTHER SANS, OBVIOUSLY!” He wasn’t too sure what those words literally meant, but it was apparently a way to refer to one’s home, and it had a pleasant ring to it. From the way that Mettaton’s mouth twitched in response, he’d consider it a success. “SHALL I SHOW YOU AROUND?”

Mettaton slowly looked around the expanse of the living room, from the tiny set up that their pet rock had in the corner to the well-loved (read: worn) couch at the center of it. Papyrus couldn’t tell what Mettaton was thinking from his neutral expression, but he assumed that he was impressed with Papyrus’ obvious housekeeping skills!

“A tour sounds lovely,” he said, his gaze at last falling on Papyrus’ face. Even when he was just being polite, Mettaton seemed so at-ease with himself that Papyrus couldn’t help but admire him for it. He’d die for such real self-confidence that the robot displayed, when Papyrus himself was currently an anxious mess.

“OK! WELL! THIS IS OUR LIVING ROOM, AS YOU CAN SEE!”

Papyrus took a few jumping steps out into the center of the room. He threw his arms out in a wide sweeping motion to indicate the entirety of the space. As he gave his introduction, he pointed to each part of the room in turn.

“WE COULDN’T BRING UP OUR ENTIRE HOUSE FROM SNOWDIN OBVIOUSLY, BUT WE DEFINITELY BROUGHT OUR COUCH UP WITH US. IT’S VERY WELL LOVED AND A LITTLE ON THE LUMPY SIDE, BUT IT IS VERY SPECIAL!” Not to mention that buying a new couch was expensive up on the surface, and the brothers had learned to be more frugal. “THAT IS BECAUSE NOT ONLY HAVE WE HAD IT FOR A LONG TIME NOW, BUT WHENEVER YOU HAVE NEED, YOU WILL ALWAYS BE ABLE TO FIND SOME CHANGE FROM WITHIN ITS CUSHION-Y DEPTHS!”

“Hmm, is that so?” Mettaton’s eyes slid over the couch without much pause.

“YES! IT IS QUITE SO! AND THAT OVER THERE IS MY BROTHER’S PET ROCK! WHICH I END UP TAKING CARE OF A LOT OF THE TIME.”

Mettaton blinked. “Pet rock?”

He sounded incredulous, probably wondering how good Papyrus could be at taking care of a dependent. Papyrus puffed out his chest in pride. This was his chance to show how great of a mother he would definitely be once their child was born!

“CORRECT! MY BROTHER IS QUITE THE LAZYBONES— _I’M_  THE ONE WHO ENDS UP DOING ALL THE COOKING AND CLEANING AROUND HERE—AND SO HE OFTEN FORGETS TO FEED AND WATER IT. THAT RESPONSIBILITY OF COURSE FALLS TO ME.” He shook his head, continuing as Mettaton moved over to the table in the corner and bent down to inspect the rock. “IT’S A SHAME, BUT I WILL NOT ALLOW A HELPLESS CREATURE TO STARVE ON MY WATCH!”

There was a brief silence where he got nothing in response. Papyrus shifted nervously, wondering if he should hurry and move onto the next area of his house, when Mettaton finally did speak.

“Oh. I see then.”

It did nothing to reassure him.

From there, he moved onto the kitchen, where he lamented the lack of a tall sink for storing plenty of things (particularly bone attacks) underneath, and from the kitchen moved on to his room. Mettaton would nod along with his explanations, occasionally offering a little input of his own, such as commenting on Papyrus’ potential construction abilities, but for the most part he was quiet and allowed Papyrus to do most of the talking. It was beginning to worry Papyrus. No matter what he said, he didn’t seem to be doing a good job of winning over the robot.

In his room, he cut his explanation of his action figures short, and opened his closet with the intention of only giving the briefest explanation of it. As he opened his mouth though, Mettaton surprised him by cutting him off, stepping forward to examine one of his shirts.

“Interesting. Did you make this, darling?” he asked, lifting the hem to get a better look at the craft.

Oh! It was the first proper question that Mettaton had asked him at all so far! Papyrus beamed, his smile coming the easiest that it had since Mettaton got to his house.

“I DID! WELL, I MEAN I DIDN’T MAKE THE ENTIRE THING, BUT I DID TAKE THE SHIRT AND I TAILORED IT TO MY PERSONALITY AND INTERESTS!” The shirt in question was in the style of a basketball jersey, with a bedazzling gun taken to the entire thing and his own name stitched into the back. It wasn’t perfect by any means, but it was his own and he was proud of it. “I PERSONALIZE ALL OF MY CLOTHES.”

A smile flickered across his face. “That’s lovely, darling. It really does have… personality.”

“THANK YOU! DO YOU FIX UP YOUR CLOTHES AS WELL?” he asked, eager to pounce on what seemed to be a common interest of theirs.

“Well no. I’ve been too busy lately to put any time into something like that. But it’s something that I’ve always wanted to try out.”

“I CAN GIVE YOU TIPS!”

Mettaton turned to face him, head tilted to the side. “Yes? What sort of tips?”

“WELL! FIRST OFF, WHEN YOU’RE WORKING WITH HOT GLUE, YOU SHOULD ALWAYS BE CAREFUL NOT TO GET ANY ON YOUR SCARF, AND YOU SHOULD ESPECIALLY NOT PUT SAID GLUEY SCARF ANYWHERE NEAR YOUR FOREHEAD OR YOU’LL HAVE A SCARF GLUED TO YOUR FOREHEAD FOR AN ENTIRE DAY.”

That got a chuckle from the robot, and Papyrus’ soul soared. “Is that so? That is very specific and helpful. What else?”

Papyrus grinned widely. “NEVER BE AFRAID TO EXPERIMENT WITH YOUR STYLE! KNOW THAT YOU’RE VERY UNIQUE AND HANDSOME AND YOU CAN ROCK ANYTHING THAT YOU WEAR THAT MAKES YOU HAPPY! THE MOST IMPORTANT THING IS TO BE HAPPY WITH YOURSELF, AND YOUR CLOTHES SHOULD REFLECT THAT!”

Mettaton’s light laughter choked off with a soft, surprised sound. “Wow, that’s actually very thoughtful advice. I’d say the same thing to all my fans. You’re right, darling—what you wear should make you happy.”

Was Papyrus blushing at the praise?  _No_. (Maybe a little.) His hands fumbled together, that embarrassingly shy smile creeping up onto his face. It was a miracle that he didn’t look down to his feet. “YES! OF COURSE. YEAH. SO… WHAT SORT OF THINGS DO YOU ENJOY DOING?”

———————————————————————

It was a long few hours more after Mettaton left before Sans returned home. Papyrus almost didn’t hear the door open, sitting on the couch and dazedly staring at the same spot. Only when Sans coughed did Papyrus jump in place, his attention jolting back to the present, and to his brother standing in front of him.

“SANS! YOU’RE BACK.”

“hey bro, how did the date go?”

“IT WASN’T A DATE!” He flushed, averting his gaze. “BUT… WELL… YOU KNOW…”

Out of the corner of his vision, he could see the curious look that Sans was giving him. Papyrus found a spot on the wall and focused on that, refusing to meet his brother’s eyes.

“yeah? what happened?”

“IT WENT GREAT!” All at once Papyrus burst with his excitement, snapping his gaze to lock on with Sans’. “WELL, MAYBE NOT AT FIRST, BUT THEN WE GOT TO TALK ABOUT THE SORT OF THINGS THAT WE BOTH LIKE AND I SHOWED METTATON MY WARDROBE AND HE THINKS IT’S REALLY COOL SO WE’RE GOING TO HANG OUT AGAIN IN A COUPLE OF WEEKS! FOR DINNER! AND DOING CRAFTS! AND! AND! AND IT’S ACTUALLY A DATE THIS TIME!”

The end of Papyrus’ words trailed off in a delighted squeal, smothered in his hands as he hid his burning face in them.

“really? wow, i’m happy for you bro.”

Peeking out between his fingers, he caught the easy smile that Sans gave him. Papyrus let out another high-pitched noise. He really had to calm down, or his excitement would end up breaking the glass with how he screamed about it.

But he was just so  _excited_! He was going to go on an official date with Mettaton! Officially!

“THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY ENTIRE LIFE, SANS!”


	4. Knocking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will Mettaton ever get a day of peace? Probably not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I basically took a month off writing this in July and focused on doing a 30 Day Writing Challenge on my tumblr. Now back into it!

Mettaton was surprised that he didn’t get a flood of text messages the moment he got hom. His phone remained quiet for the rest of the night and a good part of the morning. It wasn’t until the clock hit noon, when he was rummaging around in the fridge for something to snack on, that he was suddenly inundated with messages, as if everyone he knew had been watching the clock for a reasonable time to text him.

Lovely.

> _**[Received from: BLOOKY!!]:**  How did your date go? If you feel like talking about it, no pressure.  
>  **[Received from: BLOOKY!!]:**  oh my god i mean hangout not date oh no i’m so sorry_

> _**[Received from: Burger Cat]:**  yo boss how’d ur hot date go? ur gonna tell everyone all the juicy details, right?_

> _**[Received from: Shyyyy~]:**  Hello, Mettaton, did your time with the other monster go well?_

> _**[Received from: Alphy]:**  so?? how’d yesterday go? papyrus posted like a million things on undernet. he seems super excited, so i guess it went great?_

Flicking through the new messages, Mettaton heaved a sigh. He leaned against the fridge door, cold air rolling out and forcing the fan to work overtime as he held the door open without a second thought. Did this have to come all at once? Juggling all four conversations and explaining the very same thing to each monster sounded exhausting, and Mettaton didn’t know if he had the energy for it.

He had to reply to them though. At least three of them would be anxious if he left them hanging for any length of time.

The first text he drafted was to Burgerpants, more than annoyed with the text he’d received. He didn’t bother to hide it either, and sent a (in his opinion) polite version of ‘fuck off’, with a snippy reminder that it was not a date to begin with, let alone a hot one.

(He almost threw his phone at the impertinent ‘lol, sure boss’ Burgerpants responded with. Ugh. Sometimes that monster shredded his nerves. Fortunately Mettaton had a bit more grace than to do something so unseemly such as throwing his phone.)

His texts to the other monsters gentler, despite the drag in his soul as he resigned himself to several conversations about the same exact thing. He assured Blooky that it was fine, that he understood that it was just a slip-up and he wasn’t upset at them for it. To both them and Shyren he kept it short, letting them know that it was a lovely time and thanking them for their interest in something that Mettaton had fretted about up until the day of their hangout.

Alphys’ text made him groan. Of course Papyrus would tell the world all about how he hung out with a celebrity such as Mettaton, starting with all of his Undernet friends. Asking him to keep it a secret would be unfair. There was nothing to hide anyway, especially when Papyrus’ pregnancy developed into the later stages. Better to let people find out while he could somewhat control how the information spread. Especially since, after spending time with the skeleton, Mettaton could see their acquaintance continuing.

Perhaps even into something more.

Mettaton hadn’t expected much when he’d gone to the skeleton’s house. From his first impression, he’d seemed childish, and as Papyrus showed Mettaton around the his house, he thought that his first impression had been spot on.

Papyrus had a  _pet rock_.

There were rock monsters, sure, and he’d met a couple of them in his time, but it was clear at a glance that said ‘pet rock’ had been nothing but an inanimate object that Papyrus’ brother had probably picked up off the street. It wasn’t a pet. It was just as it appeared—a regular rock.

Yet Papyrus believed wholeheartedly that the rock was a living creature. There was no doubt in Mettaton’s mind that he dutifully fed it every day, and thought it was a real living creature. Which was endearing, if Papyrus had been a small child. But he wasn’t. He was just a dull-minded adult monster, Mettaton had thought.

And yet…

Looking through Papyrus’ closet had triggered something in him. He remembered back before he had a corporeal form, when he was undiscovered talent on his cousin’s snail farm and dreaming of his day in the spotlight. Mettaton had poured himself into creative hobbies. He spent hours of every day making his own movie posters, jotting down song ideas as they occurred to him, and even imagining an entire choreographed routine that he could perform one day—if he had legs, at least. Back then he had been so determined to make it happen, and until then did he enjoyed the act of creating.

Papyrus was quite the unabashed artist. Although the shirts had shown poor craftsmanship and the designs didn’t work well with the shirts that they had been plastered on, Mettaton had to admire the attempt. And as for the skeleton… well, he said it himself. One  _shouldn’t_  be afraid to experiment, and should proudly express themselves despite what others might think of him.

And for all his awkwardness around Mettaton, Papyrus really was wholly and proudly  _himself_. Just as Mettaton had always aspired to be.

He could admire that in a monster.

Mettaton found himself wandering aimlessly around his house, lost in his thoughts. The more he looked back on his visit with Papyrus on Saturday, the more he began to think that he might have underestimated him. Perhaps he did seem childish, but he was honest and earnest, and even if he was obviously trying to impress him throughout their time together, not once did it seem that Papyrus was trying to hide parts of himself from him.

At least, that was the impression he ultimately left with.

It was enough. Before Mettaton knew it, he was seriously considering taking Papyrus on an actual date. He was interesting, and he wanted to see him again. So Mettaton had asked him, and Papyrus was all too thrilled to agree, bringing a smile to Mettaton’s face as well. Such unconstrained cheer in one skeleton was infectious.

Mettaton found himself looking forward to their date. Although they likely wouldn’t end up in the sort of relationship that a pregnant monster might expect from the parent to his child, Mettaton could see his continued involvement in both Papyrus’ and their child’s life.

His phone buzzed again, dragging him back to the present. It buzzed again, and again, and then kept buzzing before he had a chance to check. Mettaton furrowed his eyebrows. Who on earth…?

He pulled out his phone, the Undernet icon displaying several notifications. Someone seriously wanted his attention.

> __**StrongFish91:**  HEY YOU! YOU ASSHOLE.  
>  **StrongFish91:** ANSWER YOUR UNDERNET MESSAGES DAMMIT  
>  **StrongFish91:**  HEY!!!  
>  **StrongFish91:**  HEY  
>  **StrongFish91:**  HEY  
>  **StrongFish91:** HEY

Mettaton groaned at the string of messages. Why was Undyne contacting him at all? They were friends on Undernet, true, but only for Alphys’ sake. It seemed rude to friend Alphys and not open his account to her girlfriend as well, no matter how much he disliked that vicious woman. The feeling thus far had seemed mutual, and for the most part both Mettaton and Undyne pretended that the other’s account didn’t exist.

Until now, apparently.

Despite the _lovely_  greeting she’d sent to him, Mettaton was reluctant to respond. Whatever it was, it wouldn’t be a pleasant conversation, and if he wasn’t up to the four simultaneous conversations of his friends, Mettaton definitely did not want to go through the hell that was his every interaction with Undyne. Not today.

> _**StrongFish91** : Come on dude, it’s important._

He highly doubted it.

Regardless, it seemed unlikely that Undyne would give up and leave him alone if he decided to ignore her. The woman was stubborn as she was strong and passionate about the monsters that she once protected. Better to get it over with sooner, rather than wait and deal with an increasingly impatient monster.

Mettaton opened the chat.

> _**MTT: What do you want, Undyne?** _

Her response was swift, and he didn’t even have time to put his phone down before the messages flew up on his screen.

> _**Strongfish91:**  About time  
>  **Strongfish91:** I have a bone to pick with you, you over-glorified EZ Bake oven.  
>  **Strongfish91:**  Bone pun intended._

Mettaton’s face dropped, so unamused with whatever she was on about that he was tempted to send a selfie to her just to get his emotions across. She would hate that, which made it perfect.

> _**MTT:**  What do you think I did now?  
>  **MTT:** Also how is that a pun? I don’t have bones._
> 
> _**Strongfish91:**  YOU don’t have bones, but you’re screwing around with someone who has a lot of them. Because he’s a skeleton. Who happens to be MY friend. Who I’ll wreck your metal ass for if you hurt him at all.  
>  **Strongfish91:**  I swear I will, don’t try me._

Oh right. Alphys had mentioned that Papyrus had been talking about their time together on Undernet. Apparently Undyne was a friend of this CoolSkeleton95. Lovely. He rolled his eyes. There was no doubt in his mind that she would make good on her word, but he didn’t need her telling him how to run his own relationships.

> _**MTT:** We just hung out. As friends. And I happened to like him enough that I asked him out on a date. I’m certainly not ‘screwing around’ with anyone here._
> 
> _**StrongFish91:** You really better not. You should know that Papyrus really likes you (for some reason that I can’t fathom, considering you’re all hot air and boring television shows), so you better not be playing with his feelings here._

Mettaton decided not to comment on her opinions on him and his work. There was a time and place for _that_  debate, and it wasn’t that moment. He couldn’t resist shooting back a sarcastic comment, though. As if he was oblivious to how Papyrus felt about him.

> _**MTT:**  Oh really? He likes me? I couldn’t tell from how he managed to get pregnant with my apparently mutually wanted child._

There was a long silence from Undyne’s end. Huh. He’d expected her to send something back about how ‘ew gross, don’t tell me about your personal life you weirdo’, which she was just asking for by attacking him in the first place. But there was nothing… and the nothing continued for so long that Mettaton grew bored of staring at his phone waiting for an answer. Was she so disturbed by the imagery of him having sex with her alleged friend that she blocked him on Undernet and refused to speak to him ever again?

Unlikely, but a robot could dream.

Either way, it seemed that the conversation was over. He pocketed his phone. There was a cake in his fridge with his name on it. Too many calories weren’t good for the soul, but he thought that he well deserved a little sweet treat in his trying time.

His phone vibrated.

“UGH!” Was it too much to ask to be left alone for just a few minutes. Once again he pulled it out to see who it was bothering him  _this_  time.

Oh glee, it was still Undyne.

> _**StrongFish91:** WHAT!!!!! WHAT THE FUCK  
>  **StrongFish91:**  YOU GOT HIM PREGNANT?!?!?!_

Oh. Had she not known? Oops.

> _**MTT:**  I guess so._
> 
> _**StrongFish91:** WHAT DO YOU MEAN ‘I GUESS’???_

Telling her that he didn’t remember his night with Papyrus at all would likely end poorly for him. If he thought that Burgerpants was infuriating, Undyne would be a direct danger to his health. Her skeleton buddy could tell her about it if he wanted, but Mettaton wasn’t about to dig himself a deeper hole with a monster that he didn’t even like.

> _**MTT:** I mean obviously that is the case. Since I just told you that’s what happened. He didn’t tell you?_
> 
> _**StrongFish91:** NO!!! WHAT THE FUCK. He didn’t mention it at all.  
>  **StrongFish91:**  I swear I’m going to noogie that sneaky little nerd into dust._
> 
> _**MTT:**  I hope that you won’t actually kill him. We have a date coming up._
> 
> _**StrongFish91:** Of course I’m not going to actually kill him, he’s my best friend. I can’t believe I had to find out about this shit from you, I swear to god, what the hell Papyrus.  
>  **StrongFish91:**  I swear you better treat him good or I’m going to kick your ass right back Underground. I’m not obligated to protect all monsters (including arrogant, weirdo robots) anymore so I’ll do it._
> 
> _**MTT:** I don’t doubt it. Can I go now? I’m starved, and it looks like you have a lot to talk about with your best friend._
> 
> _**StrongFish91:**  Ugh, whatever. I don’t know how a robot can be starved anyway.  
>  **StrongFish91:**  Don’t think this is over though, you better not break his heart.  
>  **StrongFish91:** Later_
> 
> _**MTT:** Thanks for the ‘charming’ talk._

And he breathed out a sigh of relief. Finally that ordeal was over. Talking with Undyne was always stressful, and now he had to deal with her as the best friend of the monster he happened to be going on a date with. Who knew that a pregnant skeleton could bring so much excitement into his life. Not even the good kind of excitement.

Mere minutes passed before someone knocked on his door. That must be Undyne. Even if she’d gotten her point across on Undernet, it’d be just like her to still show up at his house to continue threatening him in person. And if he didn’t hurry to answer the door, she would probably break it in and that was the last thing he wanted. He’d seen the damage that she could cause in person.

Mettaton let out a heavy sigh, letting the fridge door fall shut as he made his way to the front entrance. Could a robot celebrity not get one day all to himself, undisturbed? At least the hangout with Papyrus had been a nice break, but he could use some time alone to recharge both his literal and metaphorical batteries.

He pulled the door open with his fake smile prepared, ready to face the aggressive force of energy that was the former Captain of the Royal Guard. “ _Yes_?”

But Undyne wasn’t there.

What? He blinked, disoriented as he had to turn his head down to look at who’d been knocking at the door, his visitor nothing like the tall fish monster that he had been expecting.

A skeleton stood on his doorstep—shorter than Papyrus, and even more familiar. Ah. Papyrus had mentioned his brother. Several times, in fact, both complaining about his laziness around the house and gushing about this or this thing that he would do that made up for all his previous offenses. He was sure that this was his brother.

Mettaton didn’t expect that he already knew him.

“You’re, ah…” He wracked his memory, trying to pinpoint exactly where he knew the skeleton from. It was… Well Papyrus had mentioned his name, hadn’t he? And he had… _worked_ for Mettaton as… right. “Sans, correct? Papyrus’ brother?”

Sans had been one of the acts to perform at his restaurant back Underground, though not a regularly scheduled one. As Mettaton understood that he had other jobs to deal with, but Sans was generally willing to cover up an empty slot or take over a canceled act as long as the pay was good. And under Mettaton’s watch, the entertainment he hired would always get good pay.

“heh, right. i’m surprised you got it on the first guess,” he said in such a way that left Mettaton unsure of whether he should be offended or not. “yep, that’s me. sans. sans the skeleton. brother of papyrus, who is also a skeleton.”

Of course.

Mettaton crossed his arms, dropping the forced smile in favor of a puzzled look. “Yes, Papyrus had quite a bit to say about you when we were spending time together—I didn’t get the pleasure of seeing you at all during that, though.”

Sans shrugged. “just givin’ my bro some space so he could have a bit of ‘private time’ with his baby daddy.”

He sputtered at that, circuits heating up. He hadn’t expected Sans to come and just bluntly lay it out in front of him like that. While it wasn’t wholly inaccurate… well, it was oversimplified! Obviously!

“Can I help you, Sans?” he demanded, stiffening. “Or did you just come to insinuate that we did anything but spend some completely-platonic time together?”

The lights in Sans’ sockets flickered out, leaving an unnerving empty grin for a full couple of seconds before they returned. Mettaton suppressed the urge to shiver. Even without his expression shifting by a millimeter, the brief change had been enough to make him feel uneasy. Which was silly. Mettaton had said nothing wrong to begin with.

“you _can_  help me actually.” Sans’ grin grew just enough to feel unnatural. He slipped his hands into his pockets. “see, my bro told me all about how you guys hung out, and about how much fun he had in it.”

“Yes, and?” What was wrong with that? “Anyone would be delighted to spend time with a star such as myself, and I just gave Papyrus a great time. As he obviously told you about.”

“right. not disputing that. paps had a good time, i’m happy for him.”

“Then what—?”

Before Mettaton could finish his question, frustrated and fed up with how little sense his former part-time employee was making, Sans cut him off with a wave of his hand. Mettaton fumed, just barely biting back the urge to snap. He had half a mind to tell the skeleton to get off of his doorstep and leave him alone, but instead he complied and fell silent. Only because he wanted to know what on earth Sans was getting at.

“my bro really likes you. obviously. otherwise he wouldn’t be pregnant with your kid right now. he _really_ likes you, and the fact that you’re spending time with him means a lot more to him than he’ll ever admit. he’ll probably jump off a bridge if you asked him to.” Sans paused. “no, really, that’s not an exaggeration, he’d do it. please don’t ask my bro to jump off a bridge.”

 _Uh-huh._  “I won’t.”

“good,” Sans said with a firm nod, as if there’d been some reasonable doubt about whether he’d actually ask Papyrus to jump off a bridge. Mettaton resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “anyway, though. paps? likes you a whole lot. and he’s sort of already accepted that you probably won’t like him back like he likes you. and that’s fine. whatever. you don’t gotta tell me, i don’t want to know right now. that’s between you n’ him.

“what i’m trying to say here is, don’t fuck around with him. he said that you asked him out on a real date here, and i just want to make sure that you aren’t going to be leading him on for… i dunno, whatever the hell you want, it doesn’t matter. paps’ll get over it if you end up just wantin’ to be friends or nothing or you just want to know the kid and not him or anything. definitely not saying that you’ve got to marry him or whatever, just… don’t mess with him. please don’t make him feel like a gullible idiot when he finds out that you don’t like him or that you just want to keep things platonic. don’t get his hopes up if you aren’t planning to actually go through with it, cool?”

Mettaton was pretty sure that Sans’ little speech was the most he’d ever spoken without a single joke slipped in. To berate him over something that he already knew not to do. A part of him was almost offended that Sans was implying that he wanted to lead Papyrus on for no reason. As if he didn’t have more standards than that.

But he understood where he was coming from. If someone approached Blooky, he’d have their head on a spike the moment his cousin felt like they weren’t the most precious and wonderful thing in the entire world to them. Just this once, he’d allow this (gross mis)judgement of his character slide.

“I promise you, I don’t intend to string Papyrus along. He’s a sweet monster. This is just one date. I’m curious to see if a relationship could work out, and if not? I’ll tell him that, and I’m sure that he can find someone just as lovely to him as I bet he’ll be to them,” he assured Sans, the tension melting from his shoulders. “You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

Sans nodded, expression neutral. Mettaton wasn’t sure if he believed him or not, but Sans didn’t press him any further.

“great. thanks for the talk buddy. i’ve got a job to attend to now, so i’ll leave you to your… i dunno, making your lipstick-wine hybrid  or whatever it is you do when you’re home. do me a favor and don’t tell paps that i came here, ok? later, hotbox,” he said with a tilted grin and a wink.

“I—what?” Mettaton blinked, thrown by Sans’ sudden shift in demeanor from serious to carefree. But when his eyes opened again that split-second later, his front porch was empty. “What? Sans?”

Somehow the skeleton was gone, nowhere to be seen. O…kay then. Feeling more unsettled than he’d ever been in his life, Mettaton retreated inside his house. Alone once again. Well… hopefully. There was no telling where Sans had gone off to in the literal blink of an eye. He couldn’t rule out a bit of classic breaking and entering.

(Or, more accurately, just entering if there was no breaking of his things involved, he supposed. Unwelcome and intruding either way.)

He wasn’t looking forward to the next time he got a knock at his door.

———————————————————-

Or well, maybe there was _one time_ where he would accept a knock.

It was the day of his date with Papyrus, and Mettaton was surprised at how much he was actually looking forward to it. He felt curious about how Papyrus would act in a romantic setting. Seriously, Mettaton imagined. After all, the hang out had been guided by some manual, supposedly, and Mettaton wondered if Papyrus would put the same treatment into an actual date.

So when that knocking came at last, announcing Papyrus’ arrival to take him to their planned venue, Mettaton found himself gladly going to answer it for the first time since before Papyrus’ fateful first visit.

And when he answered, that was definitely Papyrus at the door.

But… Wow.

Mettaton had no idea that a suit could look so good on someone made up entirely of bones, but he found himself raking his eyes down the broad chest to where the pants hugged his hipbones. He’d always thought of himself as someone who preferred the tall, handsome, and muscular sort of look.

Seeing Papyrus now, he’d have to rethink his stance on that one. All bones didn’t look half bad.

Said owner of the bones coughed, bringing Mettaton’s attention back up to his face, a nervous smile greeting him.

Mettaton’s mouth curled into a smile. “You clean up well, sweetheart.”

“AH! DO YOU THINK SO?” Was that an orange tint in those rounded cheekbones? Was he blushing? How cute. “OF COURSE, IT’S NO PROBLEM AT ALL FOR ME TO DRESS APPROPRIATELY, SO I DID NOT SPEND VERY MUCH TIME GETTING READY—CERTAINLY NOT SEVERAL HOURS, HOPING THAT YOU WOULD THINK THAT I LOOK GREAT! THERE WAS ABSOLUTELY NO DOUBT AT ALL!”

“Well whether you were trying or not, you succeeded.” He offered his arm out to the skeleton. “Shall we get going?”

Papyrus nodded vigorously as he took Mettaton’s arm, a huge smile on his face. “OF COURSE… D-DEAR.” His voice dropped with the ‘dear’, a charming blush on his cheekbones.

Mettaton pressed his free hand over his mouth as they made their way to his driveway, suppressing his laughter. He didn’t want Papyrus to get the idea that he was making fun of him, but it was too sweet how shy he seemed about using the same endearments that came so naturally to the celebrity.

Papyrus’ car was sleek and a bright shiny red, reminiscent of the bed that he’d spoken so fondly over when Mettaton had gone over to his house. The man certainly loved cars, and it was obvious in how well-kept this one was. Papyrus opened the passenger door for him with a flourish, and Mettaton slid into his seat with a nod of thanks. What a gentleman he was. He fastened his seatbelt, getting a good feel for the smooth leather seats as Papyrus got into the driver’s side.

“I’m almost disappointed that you didn’t show this to me when I came to your house, darling,” Mettaton commented, allowing his eyes to roam about the car’s interior. A cute little air freshener in the shape of a puzzle piece hung from the mirror, making him wonder where Papyrus had gotten ahold of it. He’d only ever seen trees and leaves. “It’s very nice.”

“THANK YOU!” Papyrus brightened up at the compliment, his previous shyness vanishing with a smile that seemed to light up the car around them. The skeleton glanced away to fiddle with his mirrors and start the car, but his smile didn’t fade a bit. “MOST OF MY FRIENDS AREN’T INTERESTED IN CARS, AND I DIDN’T WANT TO BORE YOU IN CASE YOU WEREN’T EITHER!”

It might be a little mean to point out then that what Papyrus had shown him was rather childish, and Mettaton would’ve much preferred to see such a nice car. Mettaton decided not to bring that little detail up, though, focusing on the present instead.

“Well, I may not know much about cars myself, but I think that yours is very cool,” he said. A short pause passed before he added, “Just like the monster driving it.”

And if he were honest, the more he thought about it, the more endearing it was to him that Papyrus could be so unabashedly proud of every interest he had.

Papyrus blinked at him, brief shock dominating his expression, as if he couldn’t believe that Mettaton had actually called him (and his car) cool. It vanished quickly, and his face broke back into his confident grin that looked most at home on the skeleton’s face.

“THANK YOU! MY BROTHER ACTUALLY FOUND IT AND HELPED ME BUY IT. I LOVE IT VERY MUCH!! AND ITS PASSENGER HAPPENS TO BE VERY COOL AND HANDSOME AS WELL.”

Mettaton found himself smiling without thinking about it. How precious.

They pulled out of the driveway, and Mettaton took another good look around the car—clean, not a bit of trash or clutter or scuff marks, to the point where Mettaton would’ve guessed that it was a new car. Yes. He could tell just how much Papyrus loved the car.

A comfortable silence fell between them. Papyrus relaxed into his driving, and Mettaton was happy to stare out the car window as they drove. For a monster who’d only been around cars since coming to the surface, as all of them were, Papyrus knew his very well, and the drive was just as smooth as any human who’d escorted Mettaton thus far. He was content to allow Papyrus to do his driving and bask in the comfort of his company and the soft music coming from the radio.

Although… he did wonder about something.

“How did your talk with your friend go?” Mettaton broke the silence, turning in his seat to look at the other.

Papyrus met his gaze, bemused, only pulling away to check the road again. “HUH? WHAT DO YOU MEAN?”

“Undyne,” he clarified, resting his chin in his hand. “She contacted me on Undernet the other day, and I may have accidentally told her about your condition—although I would’ve thought that you would’ve told the news to the person who claims that you’re her best friend.”

“AH, THAT! OF COURSE SHE’S MY BEST FRIEND! I JUST… MAY HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THE RIGHT TIME TO TELL HER?”

“Which was when?”

“I DON’T KNOW! BUT I GUESS WHEN SHE CAME BARGING INTO MY HOUSE DEMANDING AN EXPLANATION WAS THE RIGHT TIME TO COME CLEAN!” Papyrs was describing someone literally breaking into his house, and yet he didn’t seem at all bothered by it. A bright smile adorned his face, keeping up the cheerful tone of someone speaking fondly of another’s harmless antics.

Which Mettaton wouldn’t consider anyone, even a best friend, barging into his house ‘harmless antics’ at all.

“I apologize. That would be my fault.”

“OH IT’S NO PROBLEM AT ALL! NO NEED TO APOLOGIZE. SHE HAD TO KNOW AT SOME POINT ANYWAY!” Papyrus turned that dazzling smile on him, and it was Mettaton’s turn to avert his gaze.

“Still. I’m sorry about that. How did your talk go?”

“VERY WELL ACTUALLY! SHE WAS VERY SUPPORTIVE, DID NOT NOOGIE ME, AND DID NOT OFFER TO DUST YOU IN THE SLIGHTEST! AND I DID NOT HAVE TO TELL HER TO PLEASE NOT DO THAT BECAUSE YOU’VE BEEN VERY GREAT AND I’VE HAVE A VERY GOOD TIME SPENDING IT WITH YOU!”

“Ah. I’m glad to hear it.”

Something—probably the blatant way that Papyrus avoiding looking at him and shifted guiltily in his seat and his not so subtle claims—told him that the ‘did not happen’s of the conversation were actually what had happened. He let it drop. Papyrus could keep that ill-disguised secret for now. Mettaton didn’t want to ruin the mood of the date.

Instead he turned back to look out the window, quiet as he watched the scenery flit by. Papyrus fell silent as well, and Mettaton was glad for the lack of his usual urge to fill every inch of silence with some sort of chatter. Sitting like this wasn’t bad at all.

He was excited for the rest of their date.


	5. Dating Start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for continuing to read the story and leaving such wonderful comments and kudos. You guys are all wonderful and help make writing this a joy.
> 
> Hopefully this chapter lives up to expectations.

Papyrus might have lied. Just a bit.

What else could he have done? Yes, Undyne was rough and aggressive, but it always came from a place of caring! And perhaps some genuine hurt, but that was Papyrus’ fault for keeping her in the dark on his pregnancy. He should’ve told her first, at least after his own brother. Best friends talked about the important things, and Undyne was undoubtedly his best friend while pregnancy was undeniably an important thing.

So when the thunderous knocking on his door turned into a crash as the impatient visitor kicked it inward, and Undyne’s indignant bellowing boomed throughout the house, Papyrus couldn’t fault her for the reaction. Perhaps for the sizable dent in his wall that would eventually come out of their security deposit, but not for being cross with him!

She’d looked as if she was about to tackle him to the ground, but just as her muscles tensed to spring, her eyes had flickered down to his abdomen and she’d caught herself. She restrained herself sling her arm around his neck to noogie the daylights out of him instead. Settling for a noogie and slamming her body against his with all her strength was perhaps the most control that Undyne had shown in all the time Papyrus had known her.

He still hated it.

“NO, NO, DON’T!”

He wiggled in her grip, twisting to try and find some weakness to break away. She held fast, flexing her arm and grinding her knuckles into the top of his skull. No matter how he struggled to get free, he just couldn’t lever her arm to give him a chance to break her hold without summoning an attack. Not hardly appropriate for a situation like this.

“UNDYNE!”

“I have a little bone to pick with you, you metal-loving nerd,” she said, knuckles rubbing over the top of his skull, and Papyrus managed to tilt his head just enough to catch a glimpse of her face. She wore a huge grin, but it was strained.

The guilt wriggled in his soul like he’d stuffed a bunch of living worms into it. He offered a sheepish grin, although he didn’t yet know what he’d done to cause such an expression. She had the same expression she always used whenever she was trying to keep things lighthearted, but was hurt, and he hated to see it turned on him.

He swallowed. “WHAT HAPPENED?”

“You told me that you weren’t pregnant! I mean, I was just joking around when I asked you if you were, but you could’ve told me that you were for real! We’re friends! And I had to find out about it from that big pile of metal ass—and not from you!” Undyne released her death grip on his neck, freeing up a hand to run it through her hair. “I mean… I just don’t want to find out about the important shit that’s going on with you from some dude I don’t even like. You know?”

She averted her gaze and Papyrus’ magic froze, marrow turning to ice in his bones. Oh. Of course that’d been it. Papyrus was so stupid. Why hadn’t he told her in the first place, the moment he found out for sure? He felt really bad for keeping it a secret for so long.

“I DIDN’T MEAN TO HIDE IT FROM YOU!” Papyrus folded his hands over his chest, over where his soul pulsed anxiously, with a worried magic from the developing soul thrumming through it in a juvenile attempt at soothing his own. He sent a reassuring pulse into the souling, trying to calm it back down. “IT JUST… HAPPENED I GUESS. I DIDN’T KNOW YET WHEN I TOLD YOU THAT I WASN’T AND THEN… I GUESS I THOUGHT YOU’D BE MAD AT ME? ESPECIALLY BECAUSE IT WAS WITH METTATON AND I KNOW YOU HATE HIM AND I DIDN’T EVEN KNOW IF HE WOULD WANT TO BE INVOLVED WITH ME AT ALL BECAUSE I’M JUST… I DON’T KNOW, AND THEN I GUESS IT STARTED GETTING TOO LATE TO TELL YOU WITHOUT IT SEEMING LIKE I WAS KEEPING IT A SECRET FROM YOU AND THEN IT NEVER CAME UP.”

By the end of his little monologue, Papyrus’ voice had diminished to a nervous volume, gaze shifting restlessly between the table with his brother’s pet rock and Undyne’s face. He never quite met her eyes.

“I WAS AFRAID YOU’D BE… DISAPPOINTED IN ME?”

“Geez. You huge _dork_.” Undyne threw her arms around him again, not to noogie him this time, but to drag him into a tight embrace. A sort of relief washed over him—she couldn’t be truly angry with him if she hugged him. He relaxed into her, breathing in the familiar, soothing scent of his best friend. “Of course I wouldn’t be mad at you? You can do whatever you want with whoever you want, dude. You’re an adult! I just want to make sure you don’t get hurt.”

“THANK YOU, UNDYNE.”

“Of course! And…” Undyne pushed Papyrus away by his shoulders to give him a huge, toothy grin. “…if he ever breaks your heart, you tell me, and I will kick his ass right back Underground for you.”

“PLEASE DON’T ACTUALLY HURT HIM…”

And yet he couldn’t help but smile. Leave it to Undyne to chase away his silly little insecurities and worries just by being her usual brash and kind self. Papyrus felt lucky to have a best friend like her.

————————————————————

“Go ahead and turn here, darling.” Mettaton’s voice broke the silence, pulling him from his reverie.

Papyrus blinked a few times, rousing himself back into the present. He pulled up to the intersection, looking both ways before turning in the indicated direction. Mettaton hadn’t told him what restaurant he was guiding him to. Looking over each one they passed, he tried to guess where they were going. It didn’t help that he didn’t go out to eat so often, and many of the places were wholly unfamiliar to him. Quite a few restaurants looked just fancy enough to meet Mettaton’s standards. It could be any of them.

“Right here. There are parking spaces just around back.”

The car slowed to a crawl. He stared. “…HERE?”

Mettaton flashed him a reassuring smile, as if anticipating Papyrus’ bafflement. “Yes, here. Trust me, you’ll have the best dinner of your life.”

“OF COURSE! I TRUST YOUR TASTES ABSOLUTELY!” he chimed out, turning in as told.

Papyrus had no doubts that Mettaton had an excellent taste in venues, and if he’d chosen this place then Papyrus believed that it really would be the best dinner as claimed. It met Mettaton’s standards, after all, so it would of course end up meeting his as well!

Except that he’d been prepared for quite the fancy place, imagining that it would have elaborate decor, with lush plants and ornate marble statues and gold trim, made from only the finest wood with the richest coat of paint. It would offer gourmet plates with names that Papyrus couldn’t pronounce, and the waiters would have curly little mustaches and elegant accents and call him and Mettaton “good sirs” as he led them to their table.

The restaurant they pulled up to now hadn’t been what he prepared for. As an almost overzealous MTT fan, he’d known of Mettaton’s particular tastes, and knew that their date venue would be carefully chosen.

He just… didn’t expect the star of both the Surface and the Underground to pick out such a  _plain_ looking restaurant.

No amount of preparing could prepare him for the place they’d reached. Papyrus was quick to recover, parking and rushing to get out of the car and to the passenger’s side to open up the door for Mettaton. His reward was a warm smile and grateful nod as Mettaton took his offered hand to climb out of the car as well.

“What a gentleman,” he purred, making Papyrus puff out his chest in pride.

“OF COURSE, ONLY THE BEST TREATMENT FOR MY GORGEOUS DATE!” Butterflies churned in his gut, their wings beating against his non-existent insides even harder at the tittering he got in response. Papyrus hoped to god that Mettaton’s amusement was a good sign.

Just as he began to fret, Mettaton cupped Papyrus’ hand between both of his, giving him such a smile that Papyrus could feel his soul melting in his chest and banishing all of his doubts. Oh yes, that had been a very good side.

“Careful, Papy-darling. If you keep this up, you’re going to ruin my appetite with all your sweetness.”

_NYEH!_

Even after Mettaton properly flustered him, he continued to hold Papyrus’ hand as they began walking. Hyper aware of how heated Mettaton’s palm felt against his, and how firm his grip was around Papyrus’ fingers, the two made their way into the restaurant. Papyrus worried about whether he was acting too strange. His soul stirred with so much nervous energy that he couldn’t help but fidget, his thumb rubbing against the back of Mettaton’s hand. He couldn’t believe it. He was on a real date with Mettaton. A real date, doing real dating things like holding hands with the person that he’d once only dreamed of meeting.

They’d even already been intimate, Papyrus remembered with a rush of heat in his bones. Even if his memories were fuzzy, and Mettaton’s were non-existent, the proof lay in the developing child in his own soul. The  soul that he and Mettaton had created together. Regardless of that, Papyrus knew that Mettaton didn’t have to date him. Not over a drunken one-night stand, even if it’d resulted in such a union of their beings. He’d resolved himself to only ever being on friendly terms, at best. Never in his wildest dreams would he have thought that Mettaton would one day ask him on a date. Like he genuinely wanted to try a relationship.

God. Papyrus squeezed Mettaton’s hand, and felt a flutter in his soul at the answering squeeze that Mettaton gave him back. This was really happening. For real.

Really.

“Ah Mettaton, it’s so good to see you again!”

Papyrus started, jerked out of his thoughts by the delighted greeting. He looked up to see a human woman, with long brown hair plaited neatly back and kind wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. Mettaton stepped forward, shaking the woman’s hand without breaking his link with Papyrus. Everything about Mettaton suggested ease and friendliness.

“Karla, darling, it’s good to see you too!” Mettaton gave her a warm smile. “It’s been much too long since I’ve come in; I’m so sorry for that.”

The woman—Karla—shook her head as he released her hand. “No need to be sorry at all! I’m just so glad to have you here now. Ah, and who is this?” And she turned her smile onto Papyrus, catching him off guard. “What’s the occasion?”

Heart pounding, Papyrus offered a grin. “WE’RE ON A DATE!” he said, the grip on Mettaton’s hand growing so tight that he was afraid that he was going to tear it off.

It was Mettaton’s turn to rub the back of his hand with his thumb, stroking the tension out of it. “Yes, that’s right. Karla, this is my date, Papyrus. He’s carrying our soon-to-be child.”

“Oh, is that so?” Surprise flooded her face, and her gaze flicked over Papyrus, up and down. She smoothed out her expression with a pleasant smile, so warm and so fast that Papyrus didn’t have the time to feel self conscious. “Well, congratulations! I’ll make sure the two of you get a special discount tonight for the happy news.”

“YOU DON’T HAVE TO, MA’AM.”

“Nonsense!” Karla waved away his concerns, bringing out two menus from beneath her host’s podium. “Mettaton is such a dear, and his regular endorsement has brought so much more business to the restaurant. A little discount for the little one you’re expecting is the least we could do for him and his—boyfriend? Husband?”

“UH.” Would he be considered Mettaton’s boyfriend? On the first date? He didn’t know what Mettaton thought of him. “THAT’S, UM—.”

“Boyfriend, yes,” Mettaton cut in, saving Papyrus from having to answer. He brought their linked hands to press a gentle kiss to the back of his metacarpals. “Papyrus is my boyfriend. Thank you Karla; that’s so sweet of you.”

If it were possible for souls to explode from sheer delight, Papyrus’ would have done so ten times over already.

Still lavishing words of congratulations and well-wishes, Karla led the two of them to their table and at last left them alone to look at the menus. Papyrus slid into the booth, a nice and quiet table set into a small nook that lent just enough cover to feel private. A simple light hung from the ceiling, casting a warm glow over the dark wooden table and red cushions. He settled against the back of the booth, comfortable with the setup. They weren’t completely alone and he could see other people seated at tables across the restaurant from them, but something about the setup felt like the place was there for only the two of them alone without full force of the pressure of an isolated date. Hanging out alone together as they’d done at Papyrus’ house was one thing, but a romantic occasion was a different beast entirely.

“I apologize if that was a bit too much for you.”

Papyrus blinked. “I’M SORRY?”

“Referring to you as my boyfriend. I didn’t mean to assume. Karla can be a bit forward—I mean, she’s friendly enough, but she can be a bit much if you aren’t familiar with her. You looked like you were taken off guard by her question, so I went ahead and told her that you were my boyfriend, considering this is our official first date, and—Why are you laughing?”

Indeed, Papyrus had broken down into helpless giggles, hearing Mettaton run over the very thing that had struck Papyrus into an anxious silence back with Karla. Really he shouldn’t have worried about it at all. They were both still feeling out the boundaries of their new relationship. He should’ve guessed that Mettaton might be just as nervous as he was, for all the easy confidence he exuded.

“I’M NOT LAUGHING AT YOU!” he quickly assured, before Mettaton could get the wrong idea. “IT’S JUST—I WAS WORRIED ABOUT THE EXACT SAME THING. OVER WHAT YOU THOUGHT ABOUT, YOU KNOW. ABOUT US.”

“Oh is that so?” It was Mettaton’s turn to quirk a smile. He joined in Papyrus’ mirth, the tension in the air dissipating with the sounds of their laughter. “That is a bit funny.”

After that, they settled into comfortable small talk, and before too long Karla brought them drinks and offered to take their orders. Mettaton had his ready, and after a hopeless glance over the menu full of items that Papyrus didn’t recognize, he went with whatever it was Mettaton had gotten. With a smile and a promise that their food would be out shortly, Karla swept away the menus and went off to deliver their orders to the kitchen.

She was nice, Papyrus thought. Mettaton’s liking for the restaurant didn’t surprise him after just a scant ten minutes inside it. Maybe he’d bring Undyne sometime. She’d appreciate the cozy restaurant as a date location, even if it wasn’t the high-energy sort of place that she usually frequented.

Papyrus glanced down at the table. One of Mettaton’s hands rested on it, relaxed and open. If he just reached out, it’d be easy to thread his fingers through Mettaton’s. His magic pulsed with warmth at the thought of holding hands with him again. Despite his metal body, all part of being a robot, Mettaton’s hands felt  _alive_ , thrumming with the magic that made up every single monster, the physical contact bringing him a pleasant spark to his own fingers.

He could, right? They were dating. His dating manual told him that touching was an important part in a developing relationship. It also warned to pay attention to the partner’s comfort levels, however, and never to touch if they weren’t alright with it.

Was Mettaton alright with it? He had been before they’d sat at their table, but that didn’t mean he was fine with it now. Maybe he was someone who didn’t like holding hands at dinner.

He’d never know until he did something, though.

Slowly, Papyrus slid his arm across the table. His fingertips brushed over Mettaton’s gingerly, and their gazes flickered up to lock onto each other. Papyrus opened his hand, fingers up and palm facing Mettaton in a silent bid for permission.  A short beat passed before Mettaton mirrored him, palm to palm, intertwining their fingers.

A smile rose to Papyrus’ face, unbidden, a bit goofy as he looked down at their connected hands. He was holding hands with Mettaton. Holding hands with  _Mettaton_. Again. It ran like a heartbeat in his chest, a heated thump thump thump that Mettaton just had to be able to hear, it was so loud in Papyrus’ ears. Mettaton smiled back, and Papyrus poured every bit of affection into the act as he squeezed Mettaton’s hand in his.

He dared to think that Mettaton felt just the same as he did.

Karla returned with their food at last, and the two reluctantly had to part, their fingers lingering as they pulled their hands away. Papyrus looked down at his own plate. He still had no idea what the dish was—some sort of meat undoubtedly—but the steam rising up from it felt pleasant on his bones and its aroma was downright mouthwatering.

“THIS SMELLS GREAT!” he exclaimed once they were alone again.

Mettaton already had his napkin placed neatly into his lap and a bit of what was undoubtedly steak speared onto his fork. “Just wait until you try it, darling. It tastes even better than it smells.”

He wholly believed Mettaton’s claim. Picking at the paper ring that locked away his silverware, Papyrus unbound and freed it from its cloth napkin-y bindings. Following his date’s example, he tucked the napkin into place over his own lap—he couldn’t believe Mettaton’s innovation at using one as a lap guard against falling food!—and happily dug into his own plate.

His tongue appeared the moment he brought the fork to his mouth, an unconscious act, catching the bite and mixing his magic in with the meat. He didn’t chew (that would be disgusting, opening his mouth to show the food to Mettaton when he really didn’t need to). Instead he rolled it around on his tongue, the taste melting on his tongue and dragged a long sound of appreciation from him. He had to come back to this restaurant soon; Mettaton had amazing taste in places. He swallowed his mouthful and it vanished instantly, absorbed into his magic.

“IT’S SO GOOD.” The noise he made bordered on a moan. He had to ask Karla about the chef’s techniques before they left, to incorporate it into his own cooking. Imagine if he could replicate such mouthwatering tastes on his own. Mettaton seemed to be friendly with her, so perhaps he could help arrange that.

Papyrus glanced up, intending to ask Mettaton about doing that, when the look on his face made him hesitate. Mettaton had a dreamy expression, fork picking absently at his food while his eyes remained trained on Papyrus’ face. There was something warm in expression that made Papyrus’ soul flutter. Trying hard not to jump to conclusions—but oh, that distracted affection in Mettaton’s eyes was unmistakable—Papyrus coughed, drawing Mettaton’s attention to his eyes.

“DID I GET SOMETHING ON MY FACE?” he asked, tentatively raising a hand to rub at the side of his face.

Mettaton blinked, shaking his head as he snapped himself out of whatever dazed state he’d been in. His smile grew, and Papyrus felt the excited pulse in his soul that he was afraid to acknowledge to himself.

“No, nothing on your face. I was just thinking…” He trailed off, gaze flicking over Papyrus’ face.

He waited for Mettaton to continue. When Mettaton offered nothing else, Papyrus prompted him, genuinely curious about what his date thought about with such a look on his face. “WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?”

Mettaton let out a hum, and for a moment Papyrus thought that he wouldn’t answer. When he finally did, Papyrus felt as if he’d the cushions underneath him would burst into flames from the heat of his blush.

“I was just thinking about how incredibly cute you really are.”

Papyrus sputtered. If there had been food in his mouth he surely would’ve choked on it. It took him a few tries to find his voice again to properly respond to the unexpected compliment. He could hardly believe what he just heard—he had to have been imagining it.  _Mettaton_  thought he was cute. Not just that he looked good in his suit, which had been a high compliment on its own. Mettaton thought that he, Papyrus, was cute.

“THANK—THANK YOU!” he managed at last, leaning on the table just to be closer to Mettaton, face shining with delight. “YOU’RE VERY CUTE TOO—I MEAN HANDSOME. OR CUTE, YOU’RE CUTE TOO, BUT YOU’RE VERY HANDSOME AS WELL. JUST VERY… VERY GOOD LOOKING.”

His soul did a nervous tap dance in his chest. Way to sound ridiculous while trying to return the compliment, Papyrus. Unfortunately it was too late to take it back, so he put on his biggest grin and stand behind his words, hoping that Mettaton wouldn’t cringe too hard.

Surprisingly, Mettaton did no such thing. On the contrary, a light dusting of magic appeared on his face, and he averted his gaze for a quick moment before locking eyes with Papyrus. “Thank you, Papy. You’re such a sweet man. I’m so glad that I came on this date with you.”

 _God_! Papyrus’ internal screaming refused to be quieted.

“I’M GLAD TOO!!!” He hardly cared if he seemed overeager, practically lunging across the table to link their hands once again. “THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKING ME OUT TODAY… D-DEAR.”

Mettaton didn’t seem to mind his awkward endearment. If anything, the smile on his face grew the moment it left his mouth. He squeezed Papyrus’ hand back.

“Thank you for agreeing to come here with me, sweetheart.”

———————————————————

The rest of the date was a delightful blur, like he’d gotten drunk on the sheer amount of affection bursting in his soul like a million fireworks in his chest. He’d driven Mettaton home and walked him to his door. Just as he’d taken a step back, about to go home, Mettaton had grabbed his hand and pulled him so close that their bodies almost touched. Papyrus could hardly dare to breathe, afraid of breaking whatever delicate spell had been cast over them.

“Do you mind if I kiss you?”

“YES.” It took a moment for his mind to catch up with what he was saying, and he scrambled to mend his mistake, voice breathless. “WAIT, NO, I MEAN NO. I MEAN THAT YES YOU CAN KISS ME THAT WOULD BE—THAT WOULD BE, YES. PLEASE, KISS ME.”

His rambling made Mettaton laugh, his free hand coming to rest against the side of Papyrus’ face.

“It’s ok, I understand,” he’d assured him, and leaned forward to press his lips against Papyrus’ teeth.

And that was the final nail in the coffin in Papyrus’ metaphorical death. Cause of death? Such freely given affection that he’d always thought of as wildly unobtainable, sealed with that soft first kiss. They parted slowly, Mettaton’s breath ghosting over his mouth as he wished Papyrus a good night, and separated after one last peck.

Somehow he’d made it from there to his car, and from his car to his house without any accidents. He felt like his feet didn’t even touch the ground, there was such a lightness to his step as he made his way inside his own home.

“hey bro,” Sans greeted him from his usual spot on their couch.

For once, Papyrus didn’t say anything right away. He barely even registered that Sans was in the living room with him, and he didn’t see how his brother’s browbone furrowed in concern at his uncharacteristically dazed behavior. Papyrus was on a cloud, his soul ballooned up to bask right next to the sun, a tingling delight permeating like a physical fire throughout his entire body. The world could end at that moment and he wouldn’t have paid it any mind in the world.

When he said nothing, Sans cleared his throat to get his attention. He turned his face slowly, his awareness of the present as hazy as the flurry of butterflies beating in his non-existent gut.

“how’d your date go, paps?”

The concern evident in his brother’s tone pulled Papyrus out of his daze. He forced himself to focus; the last thing he wanted was for Sans to think things went badly.

“IT WAS THE BEST DATE I’VE EVER BEEN ON, SANS.”

“that’s great, paps,” Sans said, the corner of his mouth twitching. “you haven’t been on any other dates, though.”

“YEAH.” Normally Papyrus would protest such an unnecessary observation, such a facetious joke, informing Sans that wasn’t the _point_. Not now, though. The date that had just ended was still so fresh in his mind, and the contentment still so profound, that he couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed. “…HEY, SANS…”

Sans frowned. He looked worried, like he thought that something might be wrong with Papyrus, when the reality was just the opposite. “what’s up bro?”

“…I THINK I’M IN LOVE WITH HIM.”


	6. So Close

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some light sexual themes in this chapter, and I almost forgot to post this on here. A longer chapter this time, since it didn't make sense to break this one up into two.

“Papy? Are you ready yet, sweetheart?”

Mettaton knocked on the door. After a short pause with no response, he pressed his ear against it, listening.

A furious muffled string of words that he couldn’t quite make out greeted him, as Papyrus struggled with whatever he had going on in the dressing room. The unintelligible sounds came to an abrupt halt, and something crashed. Mettaton winced. He hoped that whatever fell didn’t break, and that Papyrus hadn’t hurt himself. Mettaton almost opened the door to check on him, before Papyrus at last spoke up.

“ALMOST READY, SUGAR MUFFIN!”

The endearment had Mettaton’s face melting into a gentle smile. There was something sweet and sincere about Papyrus’ unconventional nicknames for him. While Mettaton preferred to go with the usuals—darling, sweetheart, and so on—it seemed like Papyrus never used the same one twice, making each instance as unique and special as the skeleton speaking them.

The fact that Papyrus felt alright enough to keep making them up reassured him somewhat. But not by much.

His smile faded. Despite the obvious attempts at covering it up, Mettaton could hear the slightest quaver in Papyrus’ voice. He didn’t blame him for it. Mettaton remembered his first experience on live television. Alphys had just made his prototype body; he took the stage as an entertainment robot with a few human-slaying features.

What a joke those had been. Humans always fascinated him, inspiring his dream of having his own corporeal form and being a star on the Surface. Living as a ghost only held him back, he didn’t belong on that tiny snail farm in a small corner of Waterfall. Even his first boxy body hadn’t been quite right; it was only when the little human and flipped his switch and activated his ‘Ex’ form did he truly feel One with the body he possessed.

Yet the first time he stood in front of a camera, he felt the pressure mount and the nerves take hold. As excited as he’d been leading up to it, he nearly froze in place. It took every ounce of willpower he had to keep a confident front and power through his first appearance.

And knowing Papyrus, if he  _sounded_  nervous, he likely felt at least ten times as much as his voice gave away.

The doorknob turned, and after a click it swung open to reveal Papyrus. A pink sleeved button up stretched over his chest, his ribcage so subtly defined that Mettaton had no doubts that it’d be hidden to anyone who wasn’t right next to the skeleton. Papyrus had tucked his shirt into dark slacks, a black belt cinching it around his waist to prevent it from sliding down his pelvis. It drew his eyes down to it, to where his pants hugged the upper curve of his hip. Mettaton could reach out and trace over the smooth bone.

“AND THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS READY AT LAST!” Papyrus announced, and Mettaton had to pull his eyes back up to his boyfriend’s face. The lightest orange dusted his cheek bones, although he couldn’t tell whether it was from embarrassment or because he liked the attention Mettaton paid to his dress clothes. Meticulous attention, at that. He had the fleeting urge to test just how good that belt was.

The desire left just as quickly as it’d hit him, but his lips still curled into a playful smile. He took Papyrus’ hand, and stepped in so that he could plant a kiss on his magic-warmed cheek. Papyrus’ smile grew, and he turned his face to touch his mouth to Mettaton’s. Energy sparked at the touch of their mouths, leaving Mettaton’s lips tingling after they pulled away.

After they broke apart, Mettaton took the opportunity to scan over Papyrus’ expression. He’d learned early on—mostly through poorly-disguised nervous habits and anxious chattering—that Papyrus tended to hide anything negative that he might feel, covering it up with positivity and false confidence instead. It’d been convincing at first, but Mettaton knew from experience just how fake an act of confidence could be.

“You absolutely don’t have to come on with me if you don’t want to.” Mettaton wanted to make that clear. “I can tell them that you’ve gotten sick and couldn’t make it. No one would judge you for it.”

Relief flickered over Papyrus’ face, as if he were actually considering the out Mettaton presented for him. Ultimately, though, he shook his head, his jaw set in renewed resolve as he gave Mettaton another peck on the lips. “THANK YOU FOR WORRYING ABOUT ME, METTATON, BUT I’LL BE FINE!! I’M HAPPY TO SHARE THIS EXPERIENCE WITH YOU! IN FRONT OF… THOUSANDS AND… THOUSANDS OF WATCHERS… ALL SEEING EVERY FEATURE AND FLAW ABOUT ME NEXT TO THEIR BELOVED CELEBRITY…”

Papyrus made an audible swallow. Poor dear.

Mettaton rested his free hand against Papyrus’ cheek, pressing his forehead to his. He looked right into those wide, dark eye sockets and spoke with every bit of seriousness as he could muster.

“They’re going to  _love_  you, Papy. You’re going to knock them out of their chairs, I promise.”

Papyrus’ mouth tilted into a mischievous smile. “WELL I CERTAINLY HOPE THAT THEY DON’T HURT THEMSELVES THEN, BECAUSE THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS ON HIS WAY!”

“That’s the spirit, love.” Mettaton pulled away, still holding Papyrus’ hand. Baby steps, right at Papyrus’ side the whole way. “Now let’s go knock them dead together.”

“YES!! LET’S!!”

As they entered the backstage area together, Mettaton could hear the murmur of a live audience as they talked amongst themselves, waiting for the show to start. He squeezed Papyrus’ hand, trying to reassure him without words. The sound was familiar enough to him, and by now he found that the thought of so many people just waiting for him to appear excited him, but he knew a monster who was new to the stage might feel so confident on his first time going out. Everything would be fine of course, but he could clearly imagine the stage fright that Papyrus might be feeling at the moment. Mettaton used to get it, when it was just him against a hundred viewers. Fortunately for Papyrus, he’d have Mettaton there with him the entire show.

“Ah good! There you two are!” Someone that Mettaton didn’t recognize strolled up to them. He wore a headset and carried a clipboard. The badge pinned to his shirt labeled him as a backstage assistant. The stranger pressed a button on the side of his headset, muttering something about the guests having arrived before giving them a wide grin. “We’re starting soon, so go ahead and stand right over here—yes on this ‘X’, there you go—and when you get the signal the two of you are going to walk on stage and sit in those chairs. Got it? Ok great! Good luck, I’m going to go make sure everything else is ready, just flag someone down if you have any questions.”

And just like that, the man was gone, presumably to check on some other part of the production. Mettaton doubted they’d see him again. He turned to Papyrus with an excited smile. “Ready, darling.”

Papyrus nodded, looking a bit breathless. “AS READY AS EVER, CINNAMON BEAR CLAW.”

Good, Papyrus still seemed to be holding himself together. He pulled his hand away. They’d have plenty of time to hold hands and be affectionate later on, after the show. “Alright sweetheart, it’s show time.”

Well, almost show time, anyway. They stood there for a few more minutes as the show started and the studio audience clapped wildly for the talk show’s host, Tom, as he came on stage. He sat in his place, and said a few opening words to his audience. The crowd laughed at some joke, which Mettaton couldn’t hear over the rushing magic thrumming through his head. All the excitement in the world couldn’t shake the near-overwhelming nerves that ate at him right before getting onstage. He only hoped that he’d soothed away some of Papyrus’. Mettaton didn’t know what questions Tom would ask them, what he’d say, and the lack of a script had him tense and on edge, no matter how well he hid it behind a charming smile and relaxed pose.

“And now let’s bring on the brand new couple themselves—come on out you two.”

They stepped out from behind the stage, in view of the audience. A round of applause kicked up among the crowd, accompanied by a few whistles. Mettaton turned his head, blowing a kiss out into audience. There was a couple of shrill screams in response, as if a few people had personally caught his kiss. He shook the host’s hand and moved to his seat. When he turned around he caught Papyrus looking out into the audience, gaze darting restlessly, eye sockets wide and jaw lax in his awe. The skeleton waved, and received an upsurge of the clapping in return. Mettaton smiled at the delighted look that lit up in Papyrus’ face, settling down into his chair and waiting patiently as Papyrus sat next to him and Tom pulled the crowd back into a relative silence.

“Well, that was a warm welcome!” Tom said, sitting behind his desk. “It seems the crowd loves you.”

How could they not, Mettaton thought, smiling out into the now-silent faces of the audience. He gave his all into each an every performance. By nature he was an entertainer. “I love all of them as well,” he said, and someone whooped, much to his amusement.

“Thank you for agreeing to come on tonight. I have to say, I’ve always been a fan of your work, Mettaton, and when I heard that you have a boyfriend, I just had to have you on.”

“Thank you for having us; we’re both excited to be here.” It seemed that Papyrus was content to have Mettaton take care of the talking, and he took to the role with practiced ease.

“So, I’m sure a lot of us are dying to know.” Tom rested his elbows on the desk, leaning forward to peer at the two of them over his interlinked hands. “We know already about your relationship, but there is still the burning question: how did the two of you meet?”

That was a question.

They couldn’t exactly tell the truth. How would that make Papyrus look, to say that he’d shown up right at Mettaton’s doorstep after a drunken night together just a few weeks prior? One which neither of them could remember? Perhaps a more embellished version of events would work here, he thought, gears whirring in his head as he tried to come up with an alternative explanation.

“WELL, ACTUALLY…” Papyrus spoke up before he could speak. Mettaton glanced to his boyfriend, surprised, watching him tug nervously at his cuffs. “WE WERE CONNECTED THROUGH A MUTUAL FRIEND!”

That worked.

Mettaton nodded. “That’s true. My very dear friend, actually. She’s the very scientist who helped design and built this body for me!”

“ALPHYS IS VERY SMART! SHE’S GREAT AT MAKING STUFF!”

“Well, we definitely have your friend to thank for so much today. For creating the robot that’s worked his way into all of our hearts, for bringing the two of you together…” Tom counted each thing off on one hand, wearing the very same smile that Mettaton constantly kept up in the public eye. Pleasant, but unreadable, just like almost every public figure he came across. “…and if the rumors are true, for the new little addition the two of you are expecting?”

Papyrus’ grin faltered. His hand drifted to his abdomen, though he seemed not to be conscious of his own actions. “HOW—?”

“The rumors are true indeed, Tom.” Mettaton spoke up before Papyrus could finish. From his experience in show business, very little was private in the end. Finding out that Papyrus was pregnant before either of them said anything to the public was only to be expected. “Although I would say that only Papyrus and I were involved in _that_  part.”

The audience laughed at that, and even drew a low chuckle from Tom as well. Mettaton flashed a bright smile, taking Papyrus’ hand. The bony fingers felt clammy in his grip, and he gave it a reassuring squeeze. The warm smile returned to Papyrus’ face.

“Well, you’ve all heard it here first!” Tom said, looking delighted that the news had been confirmed on his show. “I’m sure the details of  _that_  should best be left to sex ed classes, and not brought up on the show, even if I am curious about how a monster with such a skeletal figure and a robot can conceive a child.”

“That it is, Tom.” Mettaton would shut him down if he insisted on bringing up the rather intimate parts about his sex life. The audience could just look it up on the internet. He was sure that plenty of resources about it existed by now, detailed for human eduction. Along with some for entertainment, of course.

The host nodded, and turned just so in his seat so that he directly faced Papyrus. “Now, there are some things I’d love to hear from you, since very little knowledge about you is floating around…”

Tom launched into his list of questions, mainly directed toward Papyrus—about whether he’d had been a fan beforehand, how well they’d known each other, and general things about what they enjoyed doing with each other in their off time including how often that was. They answered dutifully, both refraining from giving out anything that they thought too personal. For the most part, it was Papyrus doing the talking at that point, a shiny new face in the public eye. Nobody knew anything about the skeleton monster, and it made things all the more interesting for Tom and the audience.

Mettaton, for his part, was happy to mostly sit back and let Papyrus chatter on. It gave him the opportunity to really watch Papyrus, the animated hand motions as he spoke about something that particularly thrilled him, the easy and natural smile that seemed to light up the entire stage with its brightness, and the earnest and honest way with which he spoke. He had no doubts that the public would love him, just as he’d fallen in love after such a short time spent with the excitable skeleton monster.

For once, he thoroughly enjoyed watching someone else be at the center of attention.

After the show, he got a jumble of letters in a text message from Alphys, sputtering about how she couldn’t believe they’d talked so highly of her on live television. He smiled and showed the message to Papyrus, who dictated a whole list of reasons why she was a great person who should have much more confidence in her equally great work, and Mettaton tacked his agreement onto the end.

“Really, darling, you deserve it.”

————————————————–

A few days after the talk show appearance found them hanging out in Papyrus’ room, a favorite place when they didn’t feel like going anywhere. They sat together in Papyrus’ racecar bed, shoulder to shoulder, each doing their own thing in the comfort of each other’s company. Mettaton scrolled through his media accounts, checking on his friends and seeing what fans had to say in his tags. Most of it was favorable, of course, and he enjoyed seeing posts gushing about how he had been on the show, and even more so when those entries included Papyrus in their hype.

As far as he could see, people liked Papyrus a lot, even if they only knew of him as Mettaton’s boyfriend. Papyrus had charmed them, much as he’d charmed Mettaton himself.It pleased him to see the screenshots from the episode, and he found himself warming  all over again seeing the gifs that captured the bright-eyed way that Papyrus spoke, hands in constant motion and a barely contained smile on his mouth.

“Papy, look at this.” Mettaton pulled up one such post, moving his phone over so that Papyrus could view the screen.

Papyrus looked up from the sketchbook he was doodling in and leaned against Mettaton’s shoulder. He lowered his knees to peer down at the offered screen.

“People are really liking you,” Mettaton said with a contented smile as he watched Papyrus’ eyes scan over his phone.

“WELL IT’S NO WONDER THAT THEY SHOULD, I AM A VERY GREAT MONSTER, AND VERY COOL TOO.”

“Very cool,” Mettaton agreed, placing his phone back in his own lap. He didn’t go back to it right away however, looking down at Papyrus’ sketchbook. “What are you drawing there? Another puzzle design?”

Papyrus shook his head. “NOT THIS TIME. I’M THINKING ABOUT A COOL NEW OUTFIT FOR WHEN I START GETTING BIGGER. I NEED SOMETHING FLATTERING THAT WILL ALSO FEEL COMFORTABLE ON MY BODY. I’M ALREADY STARTING TO GET REALLY ACHY, SO I DON’T WANT TO WEAR SOMETHING THAT’S UNCOMFORTABLE ON TOP OF THAT.”

Mettaton made a little noise of sympathy. He shifted in place, sitting up and setting his phone on the bedside table, right beside the football lamp that Papyrus had recently gotten from some discount store that he’d fallen in love with. It limited the space on the table for other things, and was a bit tacky, but if Papyrus liked it then he supposed that it was a good buy. “Do you want a massage? I’ve got some magic fingers that will be sure to melt all your pains and troubles away.”

He glanced down at Mettaton’s hands for a brief moment. Papyrus looked thoughtful and after a short pause he nodded, holding out his sketchbook to him. Mettaton took it and set it next to his phone and the lamp.

Papyrus sat up, and the two adjusted their positions, so that his back was turned toward Mettaton. His eyes raked over Papyrus’ back. With how the shirt draped over his bones, they seemed so small and delicate that it was hard to believe that he really had the strength that Mettaton had heard of. Even if Undyne always boasted that Papyrus was ‘strong as heck!’ from their old sparring matches. He felt no muscle mass beneath his fingers as he spread his hands over the soft material of Papyrus’ sweater.

From there, Mettaton wasn’t sure what to do. On the one hand, he’d been told on multiple accounts that he did give a mean massage. On the other hand though, Papyrus didn’t have much for him to knead. He didn’t know how much a massage would help the strained magical connections between bones.

Good thing he specialized in improvisation. Starting at the shoulder blades, Mettaton pressed his fingers into the bone, pushing and rubbing until he felt Papyrus relax into his ministrations. He moved up, massaging over the collarbone, and inward, paying extra attention to the minuscule spaces in between his vertebrae, circling his thumb into their invisible connections.

Papyrus sighed as he worked over his spine, slowly moving his hands down over the small of his back. From his reaction Mettaton assumed that he was doing a good job.

“Feel good, sweetheart?” he murmured, unwilling to break the peaceful quiet that had settled over them.

Papyrus nodded, letting out a sigh that sounded almost like a moan. “IT DOES,” he breathed out, his voice just as low as Mettaton’s.

They continued on in silence for a few more minutes, until at last it seemed as if he’d massaged all the tension from Papyrus’ back, and he was putty in Mettaton’s hands. He pulled his hands away, satisfied that he’d done all he could. Instead of protesting for more, Papyrus fell back onto his back beside him, arms flung out to the very edges of his mattress and eye sockets closed.

“THANK YOU, I FEEL SO MUCH BETTER.”

Mettaton smiled. He remained sitting up, content to just gaze down at his contented lover. Unable to resist touching him, he stroked the top of Papyrus’ skull. It was evidently welcome, with how Papyrus leaned into his touch without even opening his eyes, and he kept it up, exploring the dips and curves of his skull, his neck, and even the collarbone and shoulders he’d just massaged.

So warm, so firm under his touch. As fragile as they’d looked when the clothes fitted snug around them, under his touch they felt sturdy, not as hollow as he’d expected them to feel compared to actual bones he’d held. Which, to be fair, were chicken and steak bones, and he supposed that they couldn’t be compared to a fully grown skeleton monster.

Regardless, he felt as if he could explore Papyrus’ body for hours, and it still wouldn’t bore him in the slightest.

Mettaton trailed his fingers down Papyrus’ chest, feeling the shape of each rib through his sweater. Papyrus shifted into his gentle ministrations, letting out a soft sigh. Mettaton kept an eye on Papyrus’ face as he touched him, how smooth and peaceful his expression looked. All the usual grins and facades had melted away, and Papyrus looked so still and relaxed that Mettaton almost thought he’d fallen asleep beneath his hands.

His hands traveled even lower, ghosting over Papyrus’ abdomen. Papyrus’ eye sockets popped open and their gazes locked. Watching for any discomfort in his expression, Mettaton kept moving down until he felt his fingers brush the end of Papyrus’ sweater and he broke eye contact to look at it. He toyed with the hem, the loose fabric that muted the orange glow underneath it. Papyrus remained still, making no moves to stop him, and Mettaton could feel him watching. The anticipation felt thick between them.

His eyes flickered up to meet the curious dark sockets. “Can I see…?” he asked, pinching the fabric between his fingers.

Papyrus had all but stopped breathing, his chest still as he stared back up at Mettaton. Neither of them spoke. After a long minute, he gave a slow nod of consent. Smiling, Mettaton leaned down to press a kiss to Papyrus’ forehead.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he said, and returned his attention to Papyrus’ sweater

He took his time in peeling it back, treating it as he would a precious gift. Nerves radiated off of the skeleton below him, but Papyrus lifted his lower back to assist Mettaton in pulling the fabric away. Inch by inch, he lifted it away, pinning it to Papyrus’ sternum with his hand, his gaze caught up in the sight he revealed. Papyrus squirmed beneath the intensity of his stare.

Orange magic swirled in the space where his abdomen would be, if he had one. It didn’t have a definite form yet, but it felt almost solid when Mettaton passed his hand over the magic, just the smallest bit of give when he put light pressure against it. Papyrus made a squeaky sound, arching into the touch, and Mettaton smiled at the reaction. How cute.

He shuffled lower, leaning down to press his lips to the unformed magic, which would soon protect and nurture the soulling attached to Papyrus’ soul. It was warm against his lips, and tickled his nerves. “Beautiful.”

Papyrus’ breath hitched, and Mettaton looked up at him from where he touched his chin the magic that whirled underneath, fixing him with an adoring smile. Papyrus looked away sharply, a healthy orange flush decorating his cheekbones. Cute, cute, cute. Mettaton wanted nothing more than to eat him up, to slide back up his torso to devour his mouth in kisses until Papyrus had no air left to breathe and orange suffused every bone in his body

For now he restrained himself. He didn’t want to overwhelm him. Despite how the pregnancy implied a sexual history with each other, they hadn’t been intimate since that drunken night. They were still getting a feel for each other, and Mettaton wanted to take things slow. He wanted to savor their relationship, developing just like their child inside Papyrus’ soul.

Mettaton’s grin turned mischievous, and he pressed his lips again to the half-solid magic. He blew into it.

“ _NYEH_?!” The reaction was immediate. Papyrus’ body jerked under him, but there was no escape from the raspberries he gave his vulnerable stomach. “AH, NO!! BETRAYAL!!!”

If Papyrus wanted to sound offended, he had no chance of it as he instead dissolved into helpless giggles. Laughter rumbled in Mettaton’s chest as he kept up his assault, higher and higher, until he could attack Papyrus’ neck with his lips. Papyrus let out a shrieking laugh, twisting underneath him. Mettaton hummed into his vertebrae, an after a moment he lessened his attacks, gently mouthing an apology against his neck. Papyrus’ laughter turned into a breathy moan, and he tilted his head back to allow better access.

However, it wasn’t until he felt Papyrus’ legs close around his waist that he realized that he’d maneuvered himself between them.

Mettaton pulled back to look down at Papyrus. His boyfriend had wrapped his arms around his shoulders, as well as his legs, the blush on his cheeks more pronounced. Papyrus panted, mouth hanging open and looking as if they’d been doing some activities of a more lewd nature.

The thought had his cheeks heating up as well. So much for not pushing things too far too fast with Papyrus.

“Oh my, I’m sorry Papyrus, let me just—.” Embarrassed, Mettaton moved to get off and give Papyrus a little space.

Just as he began to pull away however, Papyrus’ tightened his grip around his waist and shoulders. He froze, blinking at the blushing skeleton underneath him, his face to bright and lively with the glow of his magic. Mettaton never thought that he could feel so hot while laying in a racecar bed.

“IT’S OK.” Instead of shying away as he’d expected him to, Papyrus held his gaze. Mettaton found himself transfixed. He could detect the faintest wisps of orange deep within his eye sockets, much like the magic that swirled in his abdomen. “YOU DON’T HAVE TO—I MEAN, I DON’T WANT YOU TO.”

Mettaton’s face smoothed into a smile. “Well, if you insist.”

Their mouths met,charged with intent. Papyrus parted his teeth, the tongue he’d caught snatches of previously probing at his lips. Mettaton hummed into the kiss, letting his own tongue meet Papyrus’. The legs around his waist drew him further in, until the two were pressed flush against each other. They parted with panting breaths, unable to break eye contact with each other.

“METTATON—.”

Papyrus looked so needy, whining and raising his hips to grind against his. Mettaton’s breath hitched, heat rushing straight to his groin. He couldn’t take it, he wanted Papyrus so badly. He opened his mouth to tell him just that, too, grinding back down into Papyrus’ pelvis.

“Papy, baby—.”

“hey, bro?” Sans’ voice broke through, accompanied by a knock at the door.

“SANS!!” Papyrus let out a choked yelp, jolting up from underneath Mettaton.

The sudden movement knocked Mettaton over, and he tumbled off the bed with limbs flailing and speakers screeching. He scrambled to grab something—anything—to stop his fall. His hand found the lamp, and it came crashing down on top of him with a loud thud. Papyrus leaned over the side of the bed, and met Mettaton’s disgruntled look with a sheepish one, but before either of them could say anything Sans spoke up again.

“bro? you guys ok in there?”

“JUST FINE!!!” Papyrus called out, not sounding fine at all. “YOU CAN COME IN, DON’T WORRY!”

Despite his assurances, a long moment passed before the door swung inward, and Sans’ skull appeared in the space. His eyelights wandered from his brother on the bed—back straight as a pole and face flushed a brilliant color—to the tangled mess of limbs and lamp on the floor that was Mettaton. Mettaton had to resist the urge to groan. None of the scene before him could be seen as innocent.

“did i, uh, interrupt something?”

“OF COURSE NOT!”

“No… no, not at all.” Mettaton bit back a groan, part from frustration and part from how he’d managed to land right on a pointy part of the lamp. He could feel it digging right into his side. Mettaton rolled over, pulling at the cord that had gotten wrapped around his arm.

“right…” Infuriatingly, an amused grin formed on Sans’ face. “well, you certainly seem like you’re having some quality time with that lamp there. no wonder. i bet it’s the  _light_  of your life.”

“ _SANS_!” Papyrus’ squawk cut through any protests that Mettaton could’ve made. He put his hands on his hips, but it didn’t look quite so intimidating when he still sat on the bed. “DON’T YOU HAVE ANYTHING BETTER TO DO THAN TORMENT US WITH YOUR TERRIBLE PUNS?”

“nope. not at all.”

Ugh. Mettaton could just about roll his eyes at that. He resisted the urge. Such a thing would be unbecoming of a proud celebrity such as himself, which was still true no matter how he managed to get himself on the floor, up close and personal with a novelty lighting fixture. Instead he focused on detangling himself, returning the lamp back to its former position on the night table, and dragged himself into a standing position.

There was a beat of silence, before Sans continued speaking. “well, i guess there is one thing,” he said, gaze shifting from Mettaton to his brother. “i was wondering if you guys were planning on making dinner or something, or if i could head over to grillbz for a bite to eat.”

Both Papyrus and Mettaton groaned simultaneously.

“WELL, WHY DIDN’T YOU START WITH THAT?”

Sans shrugged. “i wouldn’t have been able to use that joke on you. the opportunity would’ve been too far gone and poof, never again would i get the chance to make a lamp pun on a celebrity robot. and what a shame that would’ve been.”

“Yes, a real shame,” Mettaton deadpanned, sitting on the edge of the mattress. He craned his neck to look back at Papyrus, still stiff and straight on the bed behind him. “What do you think, Papy? We could always order something to eat and watch a movie.”

And if they ordered something for themselves and allowed Sans to go out to eat, it would mean that they could have some quality alone time, which tended to be far and few in between whenever they hung out at the skeleton household. Although Mettaton wasn’t not keen on going back to what they’d been doing before, after Sans’ ill-timed interruption, he couldn’t deny that curling up on the couch with his lover, some takeout food, and a nice movie sounded like a delightful idea.

Papyrus looked conflicted. He looked between Mettaton and his brother, his thought process plain on his face. Mettaton could read it as if he was speaking out loud, knowing how much Papyrus hated letting his brother each out, when there was perfectly good food to be had at home that wasn’t nearly as greasy as Grillby’s would be. He’d been crystal clear on his thoughts of greasy food from that establishment, although Mettaton found that it was greatly exaggerated. Grillby’s didn’t have as greasy of food as Papyrus claimed it was.

But on the other hand, he knew that Papyrus would be just as eager to have some alone time. The comfort of his own home—the place that Papyrus always said he felt most at ease in—combined with those rare snatches of privacy for the two of them, with no danger of Sans catching them.

(Silly a fear as it was to Mettaton. Papyrus was an adult, and so was Mettaton. If the two of them wanted to have some more intimate times, whether or not Sans was in the house, then it was Sans’ own fault if he happened to walk in on them during it.)

“WELL I GUESS HAVING SOME TAKEOUT SOUNDS NICE… JUST THIS ONCE, THOUGH. DON’T THINK THAT I’M BECOMING LAZY LIKE SOME PEOPLE.” Papyrus shot Sans a pointed look. “I WILL MAKE DINNER TOMORROW! SO DON’T THINK ABOUT BRINGING HOME A BUNCH OF GROSS LEFTOVERS TO FILL UP OUR FRIDGE WITH.”

Sans didn’t seem offended in the slightest, his grin lax and easy on his face. Mettaton wondered if the shorter skeleton ever stopped smiling. “cool, sounds good. have fun, bro, don’t do anything i wouldn’ do.”

“YOU MEAN BEING A FUNCTIONAL ADULT.”

“yup, that. make sure you don’t.” Rolling right along with his brother’s insult, his eyelights flickered over to Mettaton’s face. “take care of paps, catch you both later.”

And just like that, Mettaton blinked and Sans had disappeared from the doorway. His jaw dropped open—he knew he hadn’t been imagining things back when Sans vanished from his doorstep in a flash. “How does he do that?”

Papyrus gave him a puzzled look. “DO WHAT?”

“Vanish! Teleport! I don’t know, whatever he just did to disappear like that!”

“OH!” Understanding dawned in his face, but Papyrus didn’t seem all that perturbed. “THAT’S JUST WHAT HE DOES. YOU GET USED TO IT. HE’S JUST  _TOO LAZY TO WALK THE TWO FEET TO THE FRONT DOOR_!”

Right on queue, he heard the front door open, and Sans’ deep chuckle that was cut off by its closing as he presumably left the house. Papyrus glared at his own bedroom door, left ajar after Sans’ vanishing act. He kept it up for a few seconds before he shook his head in disbelief, returning his attention to Mettaton.

“DON’T LET IT BOTHER YOU TOO MUCH. IT’S ONLY WHEN HE STARTS USING IT TO PRANK PEOPLE THAT IT’S ESPECIALLY ANNOYING.”

“But how does he do it? Is it a skeleton thing?” None of what Papyrus said had answered his question.

Unfortunately, Papyrus only gave him a shrug. “I DON’T KNOW! I ASSUME HE DOES THE SAME THING THAT WE DO TO SUMMON OUR BONE ATTACKS, EXCEPT ON HIMSELF! HE JUST, I DON’T KNOW, GOES INTO THAT PLACE WHERE THE ATTACKS ARE WHEN THEY DON’T ACTUALLY EXIST YET? I HAVEN’T TRIED IT MYSELF, BECAUSE I’M NOT A DREADFUL LAZYBONES LIKE MY BROTHER IS!”

“Huh. I see.” Except that hadn’t cleared up anything at all.

“ANYWAY!” Papyrus sprung up off the bed with an energy that Mettaton wouldn’t expect from a pregnant monster. “WE HAVE A MOVIE TO COMMENCE HERE! LET’S GO, MY SHINY METAL GEM OF A BOYFRIEND.”

Mettaton shifted on the mattress, preparing to stand up. Before he could even get up, however, Papyrus bent down over him, slipping one arm underneath his knees and the other behind his back. With a huge grunting, Papyrus straightened up, lifting Mettaton up bridal style.

“Oh my.” He wrapped his arms around Papyrus’ neck, surprised by their new position. “Papy, sweetie, I don’t think that you should be carrying me in your condition.”

“NONSENSE!” He took one labored step, and then another. “JUST BECAUSE. I AM CARRYING. A CHILD. DOES NOT MEAN THAT I CANNOT. CARRY. YOU.”

They went on for a few steps more, until they reached the door. Papyrus stood strong, although it felt as if he were shaking until Mettaton’s weight. He opened his mouth, about to insist that Papyrus let him down, but it seemed that his boyfriend was one step ahead of him. With a long groan, Papyrus tipped his arms, setting Mettaton lightly back onto his feet.

“UNFORTUNATELY IT SEEMS THAT I AM RATHER… DRAINED… FROM HAVING A LITTLE SOUL WITHIN ME. MY SWEEPING YOU OFF OF YOUR FEET WILL HAVE TO WAIT FOR A FUTURE DATE,” he said, sounding regretful.

Mettaton gave him a warm smile. “Aw don’t worry about it, Papy-dear. I eagerly await the day you do. But until then, allow me.”

With a swift motion, Mettaton scooped the skeleton right up into his arms. He felt light as a feather, as if he weren’t carrying a full-grown pregnant monster. The lack of significant weight surprised him so much that he nearly threw Papyrus right out of his arms. His grip tightened, securing the precious package in his grip. Once he stabilized, he pressed a kiss to the top of Papyrus’ skull. Disappointment flickered across Papyrus’ face, and Mettaton nuzzled his nose against his forehead, banishing the cloud that seemed to be hanging over his boyfriend’s head.

“I’m counting on you to rescue me and carry me to my room next time I’m low on batteries, though, alright love?”

He understood how Papyrus might be feeling after his failure to carry Mettaton more than a couple feet. After all, Mettaton felt very much the same whenever he was on a low charge, when he wasn’t able to keep up his usual performance and found that everyone around him had no issues. It made him feel a bit useless, and he didn’t want Papyrus thinking that way.

“So I heard that you and me have a date with the couch and a cheesy movie.”

Papyrus seemed to brighten up at that, and Mettaton hoped that the smile he flashed up at him was a genuine one. “RIGHT! OFF TO THE LIVING ROOM!” he exclaimed, jabbing a finger in that direction.

Mettaton nodded, and set off at a brisk walk, taking care not to jostle the pregnant skeleton in his arms.

“To the living room!”

He carried Papyrus out of the room and settled him down onto the couch. As soon as he left him to get the remote, Papyrus snatched up the blanket that was folded neatly over the arm of the couch. The sneaky skeleton. Mettaton didn’t comment on it quite yet, and flipped through channels before he settled on a cheesy romance story that he’d seen before. As he returned to the couch, he assured Papyrus that it included plenty of action and explosions as well, befitting of Mettaton’s taste for them. Romance, drama, explosions—Mettaton was glad that they could find common interest in those things. It made it easy to find a movie that they’d both enjoy during their dates.

Mettaton stood between the couch and the TV, hands on his hips and looking down at the blanket burrito Papyrus had turned himself into.

“Am I invited to the Blanket Party here?”

Papyrus grinned at him, pulling the ends of the blanket tighter around him. “I’M AFRAID NOT. ONLY SKELETONS ALLOWED IN BLANKET LAND, AND AS IT TURNS OUT I AM THE ONLY SKELETON HERE.”

“Can’t I come in, after giving you a ride down here and performing my magic massage on you? And if you don’t let me…”

Papyrus glanced down at Mettaton’s wiggling fingers, the very same ones that had massaged him and which could start up a tickle assault once again. Grinning nervously, he nodded, opening up the blanket for Mettaton to join him. “I GUESS YOU MAY! JUST ONCE, I SUPPOSE THAT WOULD BE ALLOWED.”

“Thank you, it’s so gracious of you.” With a pleased smile, Mettaton curled up next to Papyrus to join him beneath the blanket. Papyrus draped it over the both of them, and they shifted until they didn’t have any angular points of their bodies jabbing into one another.

They eventually found a comfortable position, nestled up against one another beneath the covers, and turned their attention to the movie. Papyrus was the most attentive viewer, and although Mettaton had seen the movie before, he delighted in making sly glances toward Papyrus to catch his reaction to the more intense parts. They both found themselves wrapped up in the movie, and an hour passed by without either of them conscious of time moving forward. As if controlled by gravity, Papyrus’ head dragged down to rest against his shoulder, and as the movie started to wind down near the end, he could just see the skeleton’s eyes falling shut. He made sure to keep himself extra still, to be a good pillow for his boyfriend as he began to doze off.

Until Mettaton’s pants buzzed, making him jump in his seat and shove against poor Papyrus nestled against him. “Oh goodness!”

Papyrus raised his head and drew back somewhat, pulling the blanket securely over his shoulder.

“WHAT IS IT?” he asked with a sleepy drawl, making Mettaton feel even worse for disturbing his rest. He’d been so cute, dozing off against his shoulder, with his peaceful expression illuminated by the television.

Mettaton fished his phone out from his pocket, moving with care so as not to jostle Papyrus too much more and not succeeding. He glanced down at the screen, and raised both brows when he saw the caller. His agent, who rarely called him on his days off. They were his days off for a reason, and Mettaton refused for them to be disturbed. He’d seen what happened to celebrities who took on too much too fast, and the aftermath when they inevitably cracked beneath the pressure. Mettaton refused to take part in that.

That only meant that it had to be important, Mettaton thought with a heavy sigh. His agent knew how he felt; it had to be something that required his immediate attention.

He gave Papyrus a regretful look. “It’s my agent. I guess she has something that she needs to tell me. I have to take this.”

“AH.” Brief disappointment flickered across Papyrus’ face, but it disappeared a moment later when he nodded in understanding. “OF COURSE. IF IT’S IMPORTANT, YOU SHOULD TAKE IT!”

“Sorry, my love,” Mettaton said, kissing the top of Papyrus’ skull before he left the warmth of their shared blanket, standing up.

Papyrus wrapped the blanket tight around himself, once again a blanket-and-bone burrito as he settled back against the armrest. He gave Mettaton a bright smile, still edged with exhaustion from having what must have been a nice nap disturbed. “IT’S QUITE ALRIGHT! PLEASE DON’T WORRY ABOUT IT, I WILL BE RIGHT HERE WHEN YOU FINISH!”

Mettaton gave him a grateful smile, raising the phone to his ear. “Thanks, Papy-baby, you’re the best—Hello?”

“Mettaton! Oh my god, I’m so glad you picked up!” The breathless voice of his agent rang out through the speaker. At least something bad hadn’t happened, considering how excited she sounded.

“Yes, of course.” Mettaton wandered into the kitchen where he could have a bit of privacy. Not that he wanted to hide the conversation from Papyrus, no. He just wanted the chance to take in whatever she had to tell him without having his facial features scrutinized the entire time. “What did you need?”

“I’m sorry for calling, I know that you don’t like being bothered on your days off, but I just couldn’t wait with this!” In his mind he could practically see her smiling on the other end of the line, making the wild gestures she was prone to do as she spoke. “There’s a big movie coming up, and they’ve opened auditions for some pretty important roles. I got in touch with some of my contacts and scored you an audition!”

She knew just how to get his attention. Mettaton’s face lit up at the promise of a big production, which was sure to get his name in the global light. His fanbase would increase exponentially, and he’d be offered even more important roles if he did a good job at this one. Which he’d do a fantastic job of course, as Mettaton always did. His smile stretched from ear to ear, and she had him hooked.

“Really? Please tell me all the details.”

And so she did, launching into an explanation about the movie, and what sort of roles that he’d be auditioning for. All the while, Mettaton listened with rapt attention, taking in all that she had to tell him. It seemed almost too good to be true. A big production would even pay well, he imagined, and while he wasn’t hard for money it would still be nice to start getting a fund saved up to raise his baby on the way. Maybe even a college fund, if they were so inclined, or acting lessons. Sports, toys, games, anything his future little angel could desire, and enough to care for Papyrus too. He didn’t know if he’d eventually marry Papyrus, but his boyfriend deserved to live comfortably for the rest of his life, regardless.

But he was getting ahead of himself.

“Where will filming be located?” he had to ask, imagining some lovely place in a nearby city, where perhaps Papyrus could come visit for a weekend and they could take a tour of the city, walking hand in hand as Papyrus’ stomach grew rounder and heavier with their child.

“I’m glad you asked!” she told him, and he guessed that she was standing just like he was, pacing back and forth as she poured out everything into his ears. “It’s in a truly gorgeous location. I went there once on vacation with my family, and I know that you’d have a great time in your free time and just being on site during filming! It’s in Hawaii!”

“Ha…” Mettaton did a quick run through in his mind where Hawaii could be. It took a moment; his grasp of Surface geography still wasn’t where it should be. “Isn’t that a little far?”

“Do you think so? It’s rather close compared so some other locations these films get shot at. I know there was one…”

He let his agent ramble on, casting a worried glance toward the door. Although he couldn’t see Papyrus from there, the skeleton still weighed on his mind. He knew that films could take a long time to complete, and with it being so far away, he’d be gone for months at a time. Which, during this critical period where Papyrus and Mettaton were still bonding, would make their developing relationship difficult.

And Papyrus needed all the support that he could get. He was  _pregnant_! And from what Alphys had told him, the skeleton would get more exhausted as the months wore on, devoting more and more magic to the baby. Unlike monsters with fleshy bits that could hold a late-development soulling, pregnancy strained skeletons more than many others.

“So, I can get you in for the audition tomorrow—what do you say?” she was still talking, suddenly asking for his input.

“Huh? Well, I, um…” Mettaton scrambled to regain the thread of the conversation. He stumbled over his thoughts, trying to collect himself before she could notice his hesitance. “Give me a couple hours to think about it. I have people that I should talk to about this.”

“Oh?” She sounded surprised, even a little put out, like she hadn’t expected him to respond with anything but an enthusiastic ‘YES’. To her credit, she recovered quickly, and she was all business again in her very next utterance. “Oh, well of course! Call me back as soon as you can; I don’t want you to miss out on this huge opportunity. I don’t know when another like it will come by!”

“Right, don’t worry.” He felt sick. An opportunity that might never come by him again, just what he needed to hear. Great. “Talk to you soon, darling, goodbye.”

He hung up the phone, shoulders slumped. His agent only meant well, of course, but he found himself hesitating. A big movie production would be perfect for Mettaton’s career. No doubt it’d benefit him, and Papyrus, and his soon to be baby. Yet at the same time, he’d be leaving Papyrus alone during the great majority of his pregnancy.

Mettaton might even miss the baby’s birth.

It was only a possibility, but the doubt froze him in place, where he’d never hesitated before. He remembered when he’d first gotten his new body, the prototype, and how he’d abandoned the most important person in his life who had supported him through thick and thin. They’d never once blamed him for leaving them alone in the cold dirt.

Mettaton couldn’t do that to someone again.

He shook his head, clearing the thoughts and the associated guilt from his mind. Regardless, this was something that he had to talk to Papyrus about. His boyfriend deserved a say in his decision, whatever it may be.

“Papyrus, sweetie?” he called out as he reentered the living room, almost hesitant to rejoin Papyrus.

Something in his tone put Papyrus on alert. The drowsiness vanished from his face, and straightened his spine, eye sockets widening. “WHAT IS IT, MY LOVE?”

Not even one of his unique pet names were used, as if he knew that the matter at hand required a serious attitude.

Mettaton focused on his breathing, berating himself for being so nervous about this. He could go on stage and perform in front of hundreds and hundreds—even thousands—of people without even a flinch, yet when it came to a small conversation with his boyfriend, he found himself rendered almost mute.

He forced himself to keep walking, until he reached the couch and could sit down next to Papyrus. Knees pointed toward the skeleton, hands folded in his lap, he began his explanation.

“As I said, that was my agent on the phone. Normally she knows not to contact me on my days off, because those are always my ‘me days’. Well, now they’ve been a lot of ‘me and my wonderful, handsome boyfriend days’.” Papyrus beamed at that, and somehow it made it harder to continue. “So I knew it’d be something very important when I answered, and it was. Of course. She wouldn’t call if it wasn’t…”

Mettaton was aware that he was beating around the bush at that point. If Papyrus noticed it, he didn’t comment on it, but the pleased look on his face melted into concern. At the very least, he could tell that Mettaton was unsettled because of the conversation.

“WHAT DID SHE SAY?” he asked, browbones furrowed in worry.

“Well… she gave me some pretty happy news, actually!” He didn’t feel right making Papyrus think that it was something bad. “She told me that she got me in for an audition for a big movie production, which—.”

“OH!” Papyrus didn’t let him finish, his face lighting up. “THAT’S WONDERFUL! I BET YOU’D KICK SERIOUS DERRIERE AT YOUR AUDITION AND GET THAT PART NO PROBLEM, AND THEN YOU’D GET TONS MORE PARTS IN TONS MORE MOVIES AND IT WOULD BE GREAT! I’M HAPPY FOR YOU, METTATON!”

“Yes, but there is a catch with it.”

“OH?”

Now came the difficult part. He looked down at his hands, twiddling his thumbs. Mettaton couldn’t quite bring himself to meet Papyrus’ curious gaze. “If I do get this part, the filming location would be in Hawaii… which is very far away and I’d be gone for months at a time for the filming.”

“OH.”

Oh indeed.

“WELL, UM… HUH.” Papyrus fell quiet. When Mettaton glanced up, he saw that Papyrus had dropped his own gaze, now staring down at his lap. His hands lay neatly folded over his stomach, rubbing his thumb over the concealed magic.

Neither spoke up. The silence lengthened between them; Mettaton didn’t know what to say, and it seemed that Papyrus didn’t either. He couldn’t blame him. It was hard enough to imagine leaving Papyrus alone for his own selfish goals. Just liked he’d abandoned his cousin to become a star.

Napstablook had said that they forgave him, but the guilt wasn’t so easily assuaged.

“I THINK… I THINK THAT YOU SHOULD GO.” Papyrus looked up at last, giving him a smile, a hint of sadness in how his forehead creased and the curve of his mouth strained. “YOU SHOULD TAKE THE OFFER! THIS IS A REALLY GOOD OPPORTUNITY FOR YOU! AND YOU SHOULD GO. IT’D BE GOOD! REALLY.”

“Are you sure?” Mettaton asked, hardly able to trust that Papyrus was truly alright with it. “I’ll be gone for a very long time. Most of your pregnancy, probably. Maybe even for the birth of the baby.”

Papyrus nodded firmly. He leaned forward, laying a hand over Mettaton’s clasped ones, resolute. “YES! YOU SHOULD DEFINITELY GO AND TAKE THIS! IT’LL BE FINE! WE CAN VIDEO CHAT ALL THE TIME, AND YOU CAN TELL ME ALL ABOUT YOUR EXCITING MOVIE LIFE! AND IF YOU MISS THE BABY BEING BORN, THEN I WILL MAKE SANS FILM IT AND SEND IT TO YOU WITH LOTS OF PICTURES, SO YOU CAN FEEL LIKE YOU’RE PART OF IT.”

He paused, and his gaze drifted off to the side with a thoughtful look.

“WELL. MAYBE NOT. THAT MIGHT BE A LITTLE BIT GROSS? BUT I BET IF YOU REALLY DO WANT THAT, THEN I CAN GET UNDYNE TO FILM IT FOR YOU. SANS IS STILL A BIG LAZYBONES AND HE’LL PROBABLY SECRETLY FILL MY PHONE WITH DUMB SELFIES INSTEAD OF ACTUALLY DOING HIS VIDEO TAKING JOB FOR ME.”

Mettaton couldn’t stop the smile from growing across his face, despite his worry. He kissed Papyrus’ cheekbone. “Has anyone ever told you that you are the absolute best?”

Papyrus gave him a huge grin. “I THINK IT’S BEEN MENTIONED ONCE OR TWICE BEFORE. AND OF COURSE I AM, I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS AFTER ALL.” His smile turned a little mischievous, lopsided and turning his face to shoot him a sideways look. “AND YOU ARE THE BEST, AS WELL. WHICH IS WHY I AM A HUNDRED PERCENT CERTAIN THAT YOU WILL GET THIS PART FOR SURE, AND THAT IT WILL BE A VERY GOOD THING FOR YOU.”

He didn’t deserve this skeleton. “Thank you, Papy, I love you.”

“I LOVE YOU TOO!!”

It was settled then. Hawaii here comes Mettaton, with the blessing of the sweetest monster in the world.

But when he turned away to pull up his agent’s contact, he didn’t see how Papyrus’ shoulder’s slumped and the joy drained from his expression. And whenever he glanced back, looking for reassurance in Papyrus’ smile, it was there, as bright and enthusiastic as ever without a hint that anything might be wrong. How was he to suspect anything otherwise?


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably my shortest chapter yet, and I'm sorry if there's mistakes in here. I've just been trying to write it for so long that I'm kinda tired of it and I wanna move onto the rest of the story already.
> 
> Chapters will probably be a lot shorter because I actually wanna finish this story.

Although on the outside he gave Mettaton his full support as he auditioned for his part, Papyrus still couldn’t shake the selfish little hope that Mettaton would go to the audition and not get the part. It lurked in the darkest corners of his soul like toxic cobwebs settling into them, that desire which he’d never utter. Not to Mettaton, not to his brother, not even to himself in the privacy of his own room. Granted, he didn’t want Mettaton to necessarily _fail_ , no. Papyrus would never want that! But perhaps there would be someone _a little bit better_ and then they’d offer Mettaton a part in some other movie that would be filmed much closer and he wouldn’t have to let go of Mettaton at all.

When he recognized his selfish wish in himself, he felt deeply ashamed. What sort of terrible monster didn’t wholeheartedly stand behind their Soul-bonded in their endeavors? Even if he and Mettaton weren’t literally soul-bonded yet, they still had shared those intimate parts of themselves with each other, and the evidence was attached to Papyrus’ soul right that moment. And so Papyrus hated himself for wanting anything less than the world for Mettaton. He couldn’t even act like a good partner to someone he claimed to love very much.

In the end, it didn’t matter. Mettaton was a talented man, and according to the auditioners he exceeded their expectations with flying colors. They called him just a few days later, and Mettaton immediately came over to share the great news with Papyrus, with kisses and hugs and a huge celebratory dinner cooked by Papyrus in his honor. Through the cheers and bids of congratulations, Papyrus swallowed back the tiny little part of him that felt disappointed about it.

He _was_ happy for Mettaton, though! He really, truly was. Knowing that Mettaton had gotten such a coveted position filled Papyrus’ soul with pride, even if he couldn’t completely drown out the secret desire to keep Mettaton nearby. Even if it felt like it was eating him alive, like the selfishness of it all filled himself with poison that he’d eventually choke and drown on.

“Dude, you have to tell him how you feel!” Undyne said after Papyrus confided in her when he found himself unable to keep quiet any longer, clapping a rough hand on his shoulder. “You’re having his baby for crying out loud! He shouldn’t go taking some part in a movie that’s going to keep him away from you during this important time in your life. And he might miss its birth because of it?!?! What’s his problem!”

Papyrus winced, both at her passionate volume and the roughness of her hand on his shoulder. As supportive a gesture as it was meant to be, it still hurt quite a bit. Especially with the frequent aches brought on by his condition. The magic that tethered his bones together felt constantly strained, and his sense of touch heightened tenfold. He could deal with it however, and so he decided against derailing the conversation by mentioning it. He shook his head, already regretting telling Undyne his shameful secret. It wasn’t that simple, in his opinion, and Mettaton had already asked Papyrus how he felt about it anyway. Mettaton didn’t make the decision on his own without discussing it first with his pregnant partner, after all. The fault laid in Papyrus’ hands, and his hands alone.

“BUT I ALREADY TOLD HIM I WAS FINE WITH IT. I CAN’T TAKE THAT BACK NOW.”

What would Mettaton think if he did? He might think that Papyrus was the overly-clingy sort, unwilling to let him go for even a few measly months at a time. Or maybe he’d think that Papyrus was indecisive, alright with something one moment and upset the next. He might even think that such qualities in him were undesirable, and then break up with him for it. The fear of such a thing suffocated him, the swirling anxiety in his gut making both his soul and the developing soul inside of him stutter in distress.

He clenched his jaw and focused on his breath. Deep breathing exercises, just like he’d read online for moments like this. Just breathe, in and out, in and out, controlled, counting each inhale and then letting the air hiss through his teeth on the slow exhale..

It didn’t completely rid him of the negativity gripping his soul, but at least took it down to a dull throb in his chest that Papyrus could ignore.

“What the hell are you talking about? Of course you can! And if he’s any sort of dude worth his salt, he should understand that. Just say that you thought it’d be alright at the time and changed your mind, or… or I don’t know, that you lied for his sake or something! You don’t have to stick with this if you don’t want to!” Undyne snipped, a growl in the back of her throat. Even if Papyrus knew that her anger was directed at the situation rather than at him, it still made his soul twist unpleasantly at the tone in her voice.

“HE ALREADY ACCEPTED THE PART.”

“Well then he can refuse it now! He can say something more important came up! Which it did, you know.”

Papyrus didn’t know much about the movie business or anything like that, and so he didn’t know if that would actually be possible. However, he knew that despite the progress monsters had made on the surface, bias against them still ran strong through human society. Monsters were the intruders, in their eyes, and even for those who accepted them monsters were still seen as ‘others’ in their eyes. It was harder for a monster—even a human-shaped robot like Mettaton—to succeed than it was for a human. Mettaton earned this opportunity with countless hours of hard work and perseverance. Papyrus couldn’t bear to be the one to ruin that.

If he did, he’d deserve to be abandoned.

“I CAN’T DO IT.” Despite his resolve not to get emotional, to explain his reasons to Undyne logically and calmly, he felt tears stinging at his eye sockets. Hurriedly he wiped them away, hoping that they could go unnoticed. “I CAN’T, I WON’T. I DON’T WANT TO DO THAT TO HIM.”

“Woah, woah, hey.” No such luck. Upon catching sight of his tears, Undyne leaned in. She put her hand on his shoulder again, this time gentler than the fish monster had ever been with him. “Alright I get it, you don’t have to. I just think it’s a really good idea that you’re honest with him, ya know?”

He did know. Relationships required open and honest communication. All of them, from friendships to romantic ventures. Yet right now, with the future which was still so uncertain between him and Mettaton, Papyrus found himself unable to even think about being selfish and telling Mettaton that he didn’t want him to take this great leap for his career.

“I WILL BE HONEST WITH HIM. JUST NOT WITH THIS,” he said, and it was a promise to himself more than it was to Undyne. “I WANT HIM TO BE HAPPY. I’LL BE FINE HERE WITHOUT HIM, AND WE CAN VIDEO CHAT ANYWAY! AND—AND IT WILL JUST BE FOR A LITTLE WHILE; HE’LL BE BACK BEFORE I EVEN KNOW IT! AND I WON’T KEEP ANYTHING ELSE FROM HIM, EVER! IT’LL BE GOOD! GREAT EVEN. AS GREAT AS I AM!”

Undyne gave him an uncertain smile, her teeth poking out from under her lips and her brows drawn downard. She searched his face with her good eye for a long minute. Papyrus did his best to smile back as she did, and to not squirm under the look she gave him.

“Ok, whatever you decide to do, man. But don’t forget you deserve to be happy too, alright?”

Papyrus puffed out his chest, thrusting his chin forward with a confidence that he didn’t quite feel in that moment. That was fine, he was used to faking it for the most part anyway. “OF COURSE I WON’T FORGET! I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AFTER ALL! IT’S JUST THAT NOW I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS WHO IS PREGNANT WITH THE GREAT PAPYRUS JR!”

That earned him a surprised laugh from his friend, and his soul rose as the mood between them finally lightened.

“Oh my god, please don’t tell me you’re actually going to name your kid that.”

“WHY NOT? IT’S A NAME FULL OF BRAVERY AND LOVE AND ADORABLENESS! IT’S AS PERFECT AS I AM, SO IT’D BE PERFECT FOR MY CHILD AS WELL!”

“No, no, no, I’m going to punch you in the jaw if you actually do that.” He couldn’t tell if Undyne was serious, but he laughed at her threat anyway. “Between you and box-man, you’re going to end up naming it The Great Papyrus Mettaton Jr. III or some shit like that.”

“DON’T BE SILLY, UNDYNE.” Papyrus sniffed, turning up his non-existent nose at her suggestion. “CLEARLY IT WOULD BE THE GREAT PAPYRUS METTATON JR. II. THERE CAN’T BE A THIRD WITHOUT THE SECOND!”

“I’m going to punch you for real, come here you.”

“NO! DON’T NOOGIE MY POOR DEFENSELESS SKULL!!!”

As Undyne threw an arm around his neck and dug her knuckles into the top of his head, Papyrus could only laugh as he tried to break out of her grip. Undyne was his best friend for a good reason, and he was glad to have confided in her despite how uncomfortable the conversation had been. It felt like a weight had been removed from his chest. Although nothing had been solved, Papyrus now had someone to share the burden with.

When the day came for Mettaton to depart, despite her insistence that he should say something, Papyrus kept his figurative lips sealed shut and saw his boyfriend off with dramatic tears and loving smiles. Their fingers threaded together, Mettaton leaned forward to press an adoring kiss to Papyrus’ cheekbone. Then, all too soon, he was gone, leaving Papyrus to stand alone in the airport they’d parted ways in. He held a hand to the spot where Mettaton had kissed him. It was still warm. Mettaton was always warm, the metal and silicon of his body heated by his internal functions that ultimately served to make him feel alive, along with the magic that coursed through him that did with every monster.

And yet Papyrus felt icy cold.

He didn’t remember getting to his car, or driving back home. As the road slid by in his listless state, a part of him found himself wishing that he’d accepted either Undyne’s or Sans’s offers to accompany him to the airport to drop of Mettaton. Alphys had offered to drive them, even, if he’d rather not his best friend or his best brother come for whatever reason. Papyrus refused them all, wanting his precious few last moments with his boyfriend for the near-foreseeable future to remain private and between them.

At the time he was glad for it as well. They spent the time with the music turned up and Papyrus showing off his collection of various bands that he had CDs of. While he had everything that Mettaton put out, he also had a myriad of others. Some that he just had liked the album cover for, others which he’d picked up in thrift stores on a whim. Papyrus liked to think that he was a well-rounded skeleton, with plenty of ‘high class refined music tastes’. Even the ones that ground the inside of his skull to dust and made his eye sockets twitch from the sound of it. Mettaton had laughed at the twitch of his eye and politely requested a different CD be put in, to which Papyrus was grateful for the excuse to change it.

The time spent together had been wonderful, and so sweet that he craved even more. Now he was gone for however long the filming for the movie would take, assuming he didn’t come back for a break at some point, and Papyrus deeply regretted the lack of company now that he had to drive home alone.

As he pulled up to his house, down one boyfriend for the next however long the filming lasted, Papyrus found himself filled with both relief and dread. Part of him wanted to go straight to his room and collapse onto his bed. The emotional toll of parting with Mettaton had left him exhausted. Combined with the random aches brought on by his pregnancy, he didn’t want to stay on his feet for a minute longer. He hated it. Normally he’d spend hours cleaning his stress and woes away, until the satisfaction and exertion of making everything organized and spotless cleared the clutter out of his mind. Now he was just too tired to.

Then there was the dread of going inside.

If memory served, Sans would be home by now. His brother knew that today was the day Mettaton was supposed to leave. Papyrus didn’t know what his brother would say, but the thought of that pitying look coming from Sans’s eye sockets, of the coddling he might pile on top of Papyrus with regards for his physical (and of course emotional state) made Papyrus want to stay out in the car for a little while longer. He didn’t want pity, he barely even wanted conversation. He just wanted to put the events of today in the back of his mind and… sleep?

Geez, he was turning into his brother like this!

The realization made Papyrus shake his head so hard that if he had a brain, it’d be rattling around the inside of his skull. He had to do something to get himself out of this depressive funk. Not only was it bad for himself, but it was bad for his child’s growth as well. It wasn’t very Papyrus-like of him to mope around for any reason, so he just wouldn’t do it.

With a surge of energy pulled out from the very depths of his soul, Papyrus threw the car door open and practically burst out of it. He stomped his way up the driveway—and went back briefly because he had forgotten to lock his car—and let the wings of his momentum carry him inside the house.

Immediately, the smell of cinnamon made him pause at the front door. He looked around the room, confused about where the smell came from. His first thought was a burning candle, but Papyrus hadn’t lit one before he left and he kept his stock hidden from Sans just in case his brother decided to do any ‘science experiment pranks’ on them. Again. But he didn’t know what else it could be, if not a candle.

Until Sans emerged from the kitchen, two different oven mits on his hands and a very dirty apron—wrinkled and folded—tied around his waist.

“oh, hey paps. welcome home, didja have fun?” He gave Papyrus his sleepy grin, and didn’t remark on his own attire.

That left it for Papyrus to question it himself. “SANS, ARE YOU…? WAIT, WHERE DID YOU GET THAT APRON? THAT’S NOT ONE OF MINE.”

“this old thing?” Sans shrugged. “i think the kid gave it to me at some point. i dunno, i think it was my birthday? or christmas? or uh… thanksgiving?”

Papyrus hadn’t answered the question, and Sans didn’t call him out on it.

“THANKSGIVING ISN’T A PRESENT-GIVING HOLIDAY, SANS.”

“it isn’t? huh. sounds like a day where you’d, uh… give things, and then people say ‘thanks’ or something.”

“NO.”

“oh well, some other day then. maybe they just gave it to me because they felt like it. or maybe it was someone else who did. don’t remember.”

Papyrus sighed. Of course Sans didn’t remember how he’d acquired an apron, but the fact that it belonged to his brother explained all the wrinkles. The filth on it, however, wasn’t from going probably months without a wash.

“WHAT WERE YOU DOING IN THERE?” he asked, suspecting some weird prank involving high heat and the kitchen.

“baking.”

“BAKING WHAT?”

“baking… you know, that reminds me of this joke toriel told me. wanna hear it?” Sans didn’t wait for his response before he said, “there were these two muffins in the oven. one says ‘wow it’s really hot in here’. the other turns around and says ‘aaa a talking muffin’.”

“SANS THAT WASN’T EVEN GOOD. YOU DIDN’T EVEN SCREAM. YOU SAID THE ENTIRE THING LIKE YOU WERE RECITING AN INSENSITIVE SPEECH FOR A FUNERAL OR SOMETHING.”

“well—.”

“ _SANS_.”

“i was just baking a pie.” Finally they got to the bottom of it. Sans shrugged again, like it was no big deal. “just felt like it, really. you want some?”

Papyrus wasn’t a huge fan of sweets. Yet he found himself longing for the pie anyway. The sweetness maybe, or perhaps it was the desire for something nice and warm to liven his magic. Or maybe it was one of those pregnancy cravings. In any case, Papyrus found himself nodding.

“YES. PLEASE. THAT SOUNDS REALLY NICE.”

Or… maybe he didn’t want this kind gesture from his brother to go to waste. Although Sans so often got on his nerves, sometimes he’d do surprisingly thoughtful things. This had to be one of them. Why else would Sans have decided to bake a treat on the day where Papyrus was most likely to be depressed? He appreciated it too, since the alternative was throwing a blanket over himself and sulking the rest of the day away. More than that, he appreciated that Sans didn’t press him with questions about how he was feeling. Sans only offered him a pie and an opportunity to talk about anything that he wanted as they ate their slices together.

And it did make him feel warm, too, right down to his very soul.

(And if Papyrus teared up and began bawling on his very first mouthful, Sans didn’t mention it. He only leaned against Papyrus’s shoulder, and let the pie and physical contact between them comfort him.)


End file.
